Dragon Ball Z: A Different Journey
by Eduard Kassel
Summary: A series of poor decisions before and after Goku's wedding results in a new life coming into being, and another life being changed. And from that thrown stone comes many ripples, changing some roles and creating new ones in a new journey for the players of a familiar saga. AU from the end of Dragon Ball.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragon Ball or Dragon Ball Z. I believe they belong to Akira Toriyama and Fuji TV.

_Betaed by:_ Zim'smostloyaservant and Trackula.

* * *

A Different Journey

**Chapter 1**

_A Wish for Change_

Life was just not fair, Bulma Briefs thought as she leaned on the bar in the hotel, glaring at her last sip in the drink she held. It was a nice place, as they went. A touch of art deco and with low jazz music playing from somewhere.

Not that that mattered. Her Son Goku was getting married tomorrow. Goku. Married. Before her.

"Where does he even get off! He's younger than me!" she yelled at the wolfman tending the bar. He gave her an aside glance and nodded, while still cleaning a glass with a cloth.

"I mean, some girl from ages ago shows up and demands he marries her for a promise he can't remember, and he just says yes?! Where's the dating? The engaged dating? The fights, the break ups?! The awkward clothes shopping! You can't just skip from nothing to wedding! What are we, cavemen? And her, Milk Ox girl or whatever. What kind of girl shows up and asks a guy she hasn't seen in years to marry her, eh?! For all she knows, he may be a pervert who never goes to sleep until he's gone through the motions three times every night, or something. Or he could have crippling debt. Or be a drunk. Clearly those two are not fit to decide if they should marry! Think of the children!

"It's just indecent. I mean, I found him first, and no sooner does he show up as a hunk of grade A man beef after being a pint-sized powerhouse all this time, and he gets scooped up before I can even flirt with him? And why? Because some hick girl called dibs ages ago? He didn't even know girls didn't have balls before I came along! I'm like his cool hot big sis, shouldn't I have been asked permission or something? My blessings; she's a country girl, she should be into all that stuff right? But no, right out of nowhere! I'm only in the wedding party because he asked.

"…My chichis are bigger than hers," Bulma pouted.

"Sounds like a Greek myth," the bartender remarked

"Next thing you know, space monkeys are going to invade to scam us all on real estate! That's how messed up this is. I'm going to bed. Yamcha should be back from whatever unholy bachelor party Turtle Pervert put together. Probably still better than the tea-sipping sewing circle the bride had going on," Bulma grumbled, getting off her bar stool.

"Payment?" the bartender asked. She practically stabbed his offered hand with the credit card before waking off, grumbling.

She could have pressed the right button and slept it off in her own room. But here and now she was too distracted and tipsy and pushed the wrong button.

**X X X**

"Yamcha! Open this door, I know you're in there! You bastard, you think I don't know that sound! While other kids got raised on cartoons, my parents gave me adult magazines waiting at the dentist! If you don't like me, it's all their fault!"

Bulma stood outside what she thought was her room door, kicking at it with a foot contained by a broken high-heeled shoe. Finally the door opened, and an unfamiliar face warily looked out at her.

"Lady, I think you-"

"WAAHHH!? Yamcha's cheating on me with a fat middle-aged man!?"

"I'm not fat! I'm barely overweight for my height!"

"And he's not even good looking! How dare he! Did he not think what people would think of me!?" Bulma wailed, falling to her knees.

"Lady, this isn't your room! The only Yamcha I know is that guy from the Budokai who keeps losing! And you're scaring my wife, you drunk!" the guest yelled, slamming his door shut.

"Bwah! Life SUCKS!" Bulma wailed.

"Hey Bulma!" Goku greeted, walking down the hall.

"Goku, don't date bandits. They change rooms and then people think you're drunk when you're not and when did you get here?" Bulma demanded, looking up at Goku. He was in jeans and a simple white polo shirt. The boys must have wrestled him into it, she thought.

He looked good. Not that the gi was bad. It showed off those arms. More importantly for her...

"This is all your fault!" she accused, pointing at him.

"What is?" Goku said, looking puzzled and not intimidated enough as she got to her feet. Bulma poked him hard in the chest; it hurt her finger, but she ignored that for now.

"You think you can just go and get married! Love is a battlefield, and you think you can just waltz in and claim the prize?" Bulma demanded.

"Battlefield? They didn't say I would have to fight Chichi again at the rehearsal."

"Ahh, you innocent monkey boy. You haven't trained for this."

"I was supposed to train?"

"…Tell ya what. Let's head to your room and I'll give ya some Bulma Briefs quality training so you can kamehameha Chichi to the moon tomorrow night."

"That seems a bit extreme," Goku said, letting the flushed faced Bulma wrap her arms around one of his and they started towards his room, "Hey, I wonder whatever happened to that giant rabbit. Did he die when Master Roshi blew up the moon?"

"Don't care. Now march, if it gets too late you'll probably pass out on me."

"That could be dangerous, I'm not sure you could get out from under me these days."

"Haaaaa! Don't change, Goku," Bulma laughed.

**X X X  
**

"Well, isn't that a let down," Goku huffed, crossing his arms as he looked at his bed. Bulma was spread across it, snoring loudly like the old days. Not that he minded snoring, it reminded him of his grandpa.

He had gone into the bathroom to get out of his clothes, giving her time to prepare as she demanded, and he came back in to find her passed out naked in his bed.

"I've never trained with Bulma before, I was looking forward to this," Goku pouted, poking her cheek. Her head just rolled with it and she muttered something about strawberries.

"Well nothing for it. Night, Bulma," Goku said, climbing into bed and shoving her aside enough to get in, but gently. His oldest friend started to cuddle up to him as he passed into sleep.

**X X X**

'Well Bulma, I hope you're proud of yourself,' the young woman thought as she groaned. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, with the covers pulled to provide modesty. Vain as that might be, considering she woke in her birthday suit with an equally undressed Goku.

Naturally he was an early riser. He wanted to get some training in before the ridiculously early time he was to report to the Ox King to be chaperoned through until the ceremony. Her take on it, not Goku's words.

Nothing had happened — she knew what it felt like, from a drunk night to a drunk night with a workout. And Goku had, of course, after waking her expressed his continued interest on the training they missed out and asked if they could do it this morning. The answer was of course no. Holding her nose, she drank the prairie oyster she'd had Goku fetch for her, swallowing the foul hangover treatment down.

That had been a mistake. Any regrets with Goku aside, she was with Yamcha. Even if that passion had cooled a lot, he had not quite bored her to the point where she'd indulge in anything more than idle fantasies with other men.

"Erk, that didn't even sound good in my head," Bulma groaned.

"Okay Bulma, I'm done. See you at the ceremony!" Goku was there and gone so quick she couldn't even say goodbye.

"Heh, idiot. You don't even realize you almost made a mistake."

This was not the day for this kind of thing, Bulma decided. Whatever she felt toward Goku. Her and Yamcha. Or about herself. Today was to be about Goku and that woman's marriage; good idea or bad she owed it as Goku's best friend to put her best foot forward and do her part to make it a great day for him and that hick girl.

**X X X**

This was a terrible day, and Bulma wanted it to end.

She was sitting on her own at a table in the corner of the pavilion that had been erected for the reception. The ceremony had gone well enough, the sight of Goku in a suit was something, though he had told her he'd worn one as a kid on his way to his first Budokai.

True, she had gotten a certain… hostile vibe from Chichi, but that was probably just the usual reaction of a woman getting shown up by her Bulma radiance. It couldn't be helped, she had worn the ugly bridesmaid dress and everything and still was prettier than the bride. Or that was her assumption at the time.

Once the reception was properly under way, the bride had pulled her aside out of the pavilion and a distance enough off to talk on the grass. Literally pulled; Goku might have stomped her in the tournament, but Chichi was strong enough to qualify in the first place, after all. While Bulma took great care that "excess muscle" would not detract from her beauty any more than "unsightly fat".

"Goku told me he slept with you last night. Training, right?" Chichi glared at her.

"Erk," Bulma answered.

"Now, I know we weren't married and you city people have certain… different values. But whatever you and Goku got up to with him not remembering we were engaged… He's my husband now. So if I invite you over, come over. Otherwise… Enjoy the party," Chichi said. Bulma was genuinely stunned that a woman could seem that murderous when dolled up for her wedding. With a shake, she roused herself as Chichi walked back to the party, already happily calling out for Goku.

"Like a switch flipped," Bulma grumbled, starting to get miffed.

Different values? Did Chichi think she and Goku were having an affair? Last night was more of a drunken misadventure, and that same drunkenness actually kept anything from happening. And while she could absolutely see Son Goku obliviously recounting last night, implying everything, she did not see how he could say anything implying a long affair when he wasn't even a man for most of her relationship with him but a silly monkey boy.

Chichi was being completely unreasonable!

But Bulma couldn't deny she had tried to sleep with Chichi's fiancé, and while having a boyfriend of her own. And this wasn't the place to try and hash out the truth.

And she realized the rumor had made its rounds when she made her way back. Chichi's family and guests gave her glares, except Ox King, who tried hard not to look at her in an amusingly over the top fashion. Launch blushed; thank goodness she wasn't blonde right now.

Her father, mother and Master Roshi gave her a smile and a big thumbs up each! Deviants!

Yamcha, though, he had been the worst, Bulma thought, tossing back her drink as she recalled sitting with him earlier.

_Earlier_:

"So, great weather right? I mean, an outdoor wedding and reception, it may save big on money but you're kind of a slave to the weather," the former bandit remarked as they sat alone at a table.

"Hmm," Bulma almost growled, refilling her wine glass. Her plate was empty.

"Uh, a bit early for that, don't you think? The buffet is great and large enough to almost be Goku proof," Yamcha said.

"…"

"Do you… do you need anything?" Yamcha asked, sweat-dropping as she glared at her empty glass.

"Why don't you just ask already? Don't tell me you haven't heard yourself!" Bulma demanded of him, keeping her voice low but intense. He had the decency to blush, and wiped non-existent crumbs off his mouth with a napkin.

"Uh, you mean, Goku?" he asked.

"YES!" she shouted, getting some looks from the party. Blushing bright red, she waved for the conversation to resume, lowering her head and and her voice, with Yamcha following suit.

"If anyone should be angry, it should be you! Your woman cheated, a man you call friend stole a march on you. Where's your fury born of injured man's pride? The kind of thing that makes you want to assert yourself by punching both of us in the face?!"

"Wait, it's true?" Yamcha looked gobsmacked. Bulma slapped him.

"Of course not! But you shouldn't just believe that!"

"…What?"

"When we first met you were a fierce bandit! You thought nothing of robbing women and beating up kids. Now you can't even get upset like any respectable tough guy over rumors like that! Don't you even care about our relationship!"

"I am getting very confused, Bulma! I am not sure what you even want out of this!"

"…You're right. Yamcha, I think we might be done."

"…Really? I trust you enough not to jump to conclusions and…"

"No. Yes? I don't know. This won't go well now. Go hang out with the boys and leave me alone. Once we get back to Capsule Corp…"

"…You're right, this isn't the place for a messy break up. Today's for the happy couple. But yeah, I think we're done. I'll see about moving out once we get back to West City. It was good while it lasted," Yamcha sighed. He got up and headed off, hands in his pockets.

**X X X**

By the time the bride and groom were driving off into the sunset, Bulma had enough drinks, and another great idea.

Aside from the fact Chichi wasted a perfect opportunity to get carried off by her flying husband. Who needs a car when you can get carried everywhere by a flying muscly man, Bulma thought?

"Krillin! Get over here!" she shouted from her table.

**X X X**

"So, Bulma wants us to gather the Dragon Balls?" Tien asked. He and Krillin sat at a table in a simple breakfast/lunch place with cheap meals laid out for them. It was the day after the wedding, and at checkout from the hotel Tien had received a note from Krillin asking him to meet up here.

"Yeah, and she's offering a lot of zeni to make it snappy," Krilin answered, snapping his fingers for effect.

"Isn't buying a wish rather against Kami-sama's idea of seeking the Dragon Balls as a matter of personal sacrifice and achievement?" Tien remarked.

"Let me answer that question with another question. You said last night you hope to open your own new Crane school someday. How's your bank account look for that?" Krillin asked. Tien sighed and closed all three eyes.

"I take it she already gave you the dragon radar?" Tien asked.

"Yep, but she said she only fixes it for free from Goku, so any repair cost gets deducted from our pay."

"Lovely," Tien rolled his eyes.

"Don't be glum, it's sure to be an epic adventure, with you and me taking center stage. An awesome tale of friendship, growth, and maybe even new truths of the world-"

_About three episodes of filler worthy material later:_

"Here's your Dragon Balls, Bulma! Huh, didn't think you'd still be hanging around this same hotel," Krilin remarked.

"I'm rich, I can stay where I like so long as they accept credit cards," Bulma waved it off. She was standing in the doorway to her hotel room, looking rather unkempt.

"So, me and Tien got to talking, while gathering the Dragon Balls," Krillin continued as Bulma took the plain paper bag they had put the Balls in.

"Mhm," Bulma grunted, opening the bag and moving the Balls around one finger to count them.

"We were kind of wondering if you'd say what you want to wish for?" Krillin asked.

"No," Bulma said, closing the door on them.

"Oh my, who would have seen that coming. Oh wait, I did," Tien remarked, as they faced the brown door.

"Uhh, she is going to pay us, right?" Krillin asked no one in particular.

The door swung open and a pair of bags bigger than their heads flew at them. The boys caught them with reflexive ease, finding themselves holding bags with the zeni sign printed on them.

"Good job," Bulma remarked with a smile they weren't quite comfortable with. She considered them a moment before saying more.

"You know, I was a bit worried you'd realize you could just use the Dragon Balls to wish for more money and cut me out. Guess that martial artists' honor won out, huh? Well thanks," she said with a wave before slamming the door shut.

"…Yes, honor."

"That never occurred to you, did it?" Tien said.

"Well, we did a good deed! Right?" Krillin asked as Bulma's muffled but maniacal laughter reached them in the hallway.

**X X X**

Bulma decided to wait until dark. She had driven out into the woods, far away from the city, with plenty of guns to make sure no one disturbed her. The isolation and the dark night should keep the fact she had summoned the dragon on the down low. After all, it would look better for her if people assumed she pulled this off on her own, dragon-free.

"I HAVE THE DRAGON BALLS! COME OUT SHENRON AND GRANT MY WISH!" Bulma commanded, holding up the bag of power in the rest stop parking lot she had chosen.

The Dragon Balls lit up and the sky darkened with thunder. With glorious red light, Shenron came forth, his massive serpentine body coiling through the clouds, his head emerging fang-filled snout first, and beneath his antlers ruby red eyes looked down on her.

"I AM THE ETERNAL DRAGON-"

"WE BOTH KNOW YOU KNOW WHO I AM! NOW LISTEN UP! I HAVE MY WISH WRITTEN DOWN!" Bulma shouted over he dragon's thunderous voice.

"…" The dragon gave the blue-haired human an unimpressed look as she reached down the front of her shirt and pulled out a page torn from a notebook. Unfolding it, Bulma cleared her throat.

"Okay! No wish granting till I'm done! I, Bulma Briefs, do hereby wish for a man like Son Goku, but a bit smarter, in my life. To share a deep and unbreakable bond for so long as we both live and into the thereafter, etc. And for him to enter my life before the year is up, so no winter romance here. My summer is not to be squandered!"

"VERY WELL. THIS WILL STING A BIT," the dragon rumbled.

"Huh?" Bulma asked.

The heavens parted as a red lightning bolt struck Bulma.

"DRAWKCABDROWEGASSEM!" Bulma shouted out, practically dancing a jig as mystic energy zapped her most thoroughly.

Then it was over, and Bulma fell to her knees, her hair standing up in a spiky blue afro that had red-tinted static visibly surging through it and popping.

"YOUR WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED. FARE THEE WELL!" Shenron proclaimed. Bulma belched some smoke, and her eyes rolled up into her head as the Dragon Balls scattered and the skies cleared.

"Where's my hunk?" Bulma wearily demanded, before tilting to the side and falling over, passing out.

**X X X**

The first thing Bulma knew, she had fallen asleep in a parking lot.

"Not again," she grumbled, pushing herself up. Getting to her knees, she scratched the cheek that had been pressed into the pavement and was pleased it wasn't sore. So she probably hadn't been out that long? Still, her head hurt; the morning tweeting birds had woken her up, after all.

Looking around at the idyllic woods around her and the stupidly loud birds, she decided nature was not her friend, pulled the pistol out of her belt, and fired off a shot into the air. That silenced the birds. Bulma chuckled before wincing, the sound of the gunshot making things worse.

Spotting one of her cars parked nearby, Bulma tumbled to it and unlocked the driver's side to slide her bottom onto the expensive leather. She winced and stood back up, a literal pain in her butt. Draping herself on her car's roof instead, she narrowed her eyes, trying to recall what she did last night.

"Oh," she said, glancing to the sky and remembering.

"That dragon tazed me!" Bulma shrieked. Reaching into a pants pocket, she pulled out a cough drop and started to suck on it grumpily, savoring the strawberry flavor.

"Stupid dragon, he's probably going to make me wait nearly a year to get my man," Bulma groused. Maybe it had been a bad idea; how embarrassing would it be to admit she had not been able to land a worthy man without a dragon's help?

"And what's with my-" Bulma groused, her pants feeling terrible. Then she felt something, something fuzzy slither along her left thigh.

Something had crawled up her pants!

Shrieking, Bulma practically jumped out of her pants and proceeded to unload her gun at them. Taking huge huffing breaths, Bulma cautiously approached her very dead pants and nudged them with the tip of her sneaker. No critter, just pants.

Bulma cocked an eye brow.

"Where's the thing?" Bulma muttered. She reached to grab another clip for her gun, forgetting the ammo was in her dead pants. But as she groped for an nonexistent pocket, her hand brushed something. Something fuzzy!

"EEEKK!" Buma shrieked, whirling to face the vile animal built up in her mind, only to catch its edge in peripheral and keep going. Practically spinning on her heel for a bit, Bulma fell down on the pavement in dizziness.

"Ugh. Meh?" Bulma went. Her vision tilting, she saw the foul thing; it was blue and fuzzy, shaped like a snake. Flipping her gun, she tried to pistol whip it but missed, hitting the pavement and sending a jolt up her arm that sent the gun flying. Roaring with anger, she seized it with her other hand, squeezing tight.

She had a moment to feel the pain of her had squeezing it, and then everything went all weak and whoozy.

Pant-less, Bulma Briefs passed out again in the lonely parking lot, clutching her own tail.

**X X X**

"Well, ain't that something. Is it prehensile?" Dr. Briefs asked, poking his daughter's tail with a ballpoint pen.

"I don't know, I hid it under a dress until I got back here!" Bulma shouted. She stood in her father's lab back at Capsule Corp.

"Well, that's just bad science there. You might have a whole new effective appendage to work with, honey. Why, the applications in the bedroom alone…" Dr. Briefs said.

"I just want to get rid of it!" Bulma roared in his face, whirling on him.

"*sigh* Must you be so prudish? Yamcha probably wouldn't have left if you had something to offer no other girl could provide."

"I broke up with him!" Bulma insisted.

Mrs. Briefs walked in on the one-sided aggression with a tray holding two cold cans of beer. Bulma swiped one, opening and taking a chug while the doctor more calmly took his first sip.

"Now honey, don't be too quick," Mrs. Briefs said, "I think you look real cute with a tail. Besides, if you learn a few tricks, maybe you'll finally be invited to parties that don't have to do with the company."

"Deviants! It's not natural for a virile young girl like me to be less… this than her parents! And can you remove the tail or not!?" Bulma shrieked, before demanding of her father. After he took what she saw as a rudely long drink of his beer, he lit a new cigarette.

"Bulma, I am a doctor, and a good one. But I'm not a surgeon. Now if you had wanted a tail, I'm sure I could have hooked you up with a nice cybernetic one with lots of features…"

"Oh, could it have a lighter in it, or one of those portable fans?" Mrs. Briefs asked.

"I don't see why not. What, dear? You looking to get into the market?"

"Well, do you think I could pull it off?" she asked with a blush, cupping her head.

"AGH! Fine! Give me the number of a real- BLECH!" Bulma ranted, before vomiting over the floor.

"…Dear, did you stock the cheap imported stuff again?" Dr. Briefs asked, looking at his can of beer while adjusting his glasses.

"No, it's domestic."

"I hate everything," Bulma growled.

_Later, with a "Real" Doctor:_

"Well, I have good news and bad news, Miss Briefs," a dark-skinned man with a shaved head and gold-framed glasses wearing a doctor's coat said. They were in an examination room, with Bulma sitting and looking miserable, wearing a medical gown, her tail swishing occasionally on the big roll of paper laid across the padded table she was perched on.

"Bad news first," Bulma demanded, her baggy eyes tired.

"Very well. Even though I think we can remove the tail safely, it will take months of examination and bringing together a team willing and able to perform this unprecedented procedure. And it will be quite expensive. The tail seems to be a natural limb, causing no trouble. Are you sure you want-"

"Get rid of it or so help me I will hack it off with a cleaver," Bulma threatened.

"Er, very well. The good news is that your nausea is not related to the tail at all. And you are not sick, as you feared."

"So, it's just from getting struck by lightning?" Bulma asked.

"Umm, no. You're pregnant. It's very early, but it looks- Miss Briefs?"

Bulma was staring, head stunned. How, she wondered, about to scream, she had not done the deed despite her effort with Goku. But then, her wish came back to her, as if that paper was now floating in front of her.

A lifelong bond, transcending even death…

"SHENROOONNNNNNN!" Bulma shrieked at the top of her lungs, frightening the poor doctor.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

_And so it begins. An idea like this has been bouncing in my head for maybe five years or so usually not going anywhere. And when I hit a block for a long time I usually and up going through my 'Maybe?' pile of ideas hoping to jolt myself from a slump. Then this year while working on the Zangya fic the spark missed that story and hit this. And to my surprise it actually ignited. _

_So here we are. An unexpected ride but keeping it under my hat after it started flowing seemed wasteful._

_Hope you find it enjoyable even if you are mostly here waiting for my other fics to update. _

_Until next time remember to be mindful with any wishes just in case they get granted; and have long days and pleasant nights._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Ball or Dragon Ball Z.

_Betaed by_: Zim'smostloyalservant and Trackula

* * *

**Chapter 2**

_A_ _Bulma Momma_

Dr. Briefs was a genius, he'd known this since he was a kid. And had never been shy about taking advantage of the fact. Oh, he wasn't some supervillain or anything; he never felt the need to beat other people's ideas or ways of life down using his intellect like some of his fellow prodigies. After all, however much he might be annoyed by or just dislike people, time spent putting them in their so-called place was nearly always better spent improving his own lot in life.

As such, while those other obsessive smart guys were sulking about in hidden labs, in jail, or just plain dead, he was the single richest man in the world, famous, and had the wife of his choice. His status and wealth, with some state of the art science thrown in, practically made him his own genie, able to grant most wishes.

Heck, Bulma was one hundred percent natural, at his wife's insistence, yet she turned out to be a chip off the old block. Though lacking his patient confidence. So he could put good luck down on his list of great stuff he had.

So it was no small exaggeration to say he was utterly confident in his ability to read a situation when he had enough data to wok with. He could be quite rude, but he was well aware of the lines not to be crossed, and danced a social jig most could never grasp. Mostly because it amused him to do so.

Anyway, coming around his thought process, he concluded it was safe to talk with Bulma now.

"Bulma, I am coming in," he said though the door to her suite. Her lack of response told him she either agreed, or had passed out. Well, either way danger was minimal, so he used his master key to enter.

"Well, it's quite a thing to see in person," the doctor commented, adjusting his glasses. The room was full of assorted dishes, picked over. Bulma had been running the dining staff ragged. Even the robot assistant had broken down to the point he had just decided to use the interns instead as cheaper than wasting perfectly good parts.

She'd been taking in the food and giving nothing back for three days now. The table was covered, save for a space apparently set aside for the next meal. They piled on the chairs, and the counters.

"Deja vu," he muttered, walking through the room, following the sound of a television. He soon recognized the program playing. 'Rogues of Makeout Paradise, a Tale of Love, Longing and Violence'. A trash movie in his opinion, and a favorite of Bulma's. Honestly, why couldn't she just watch some actual smut or a real movie instead of vainly trying to bring the two together? You don't go slapping ice cream on a steak, after all.

Bulma herself was laid out on the couch, clearly awake, wearing sweats and misusing the ladies' edition of a fine magazine publication as a face mask.

"So, ready to talk?" he asked. She grunted. The doctor grabbed a chair from the corner and dragged it over to sit near her.

"I'll take your lack of drive to use real words means you're not objecting."

"Ugh, what is it, Dad?" she demanded, tossing the magazine aside.

"Bulma, you know, since you and your sister turned out smart and not pushovers, I decided on a more free-range style of parenting. In no small part because I'll admit my parental qualifications are a tad dubious," he said. He made to light a cigarette, but thought better of it, tucking the pack and lighter back into his pockets, "But your girl being pregnant mandates a certain attentiveness."

"…"

"Okay, I'll cut to the chase, as it were. How do you want to go with this?" he asked.

"What?" Bulma asked, sitting up a bit to look at him.

"Sweetie, I know I poke fun at how prudish and close-minded you can be, always thought you should live a little more… lively. But I've never tried to impose anything on you save the common sense and basic morality which I feel are fairly mandatory for being a healthy person and member of society. And you're a young woman with a lot of life ahead of her. So it's understandable if you don't want to detour your plans for an unplanned pregnancy from a one night stand with a man married to someone else. On the other hand, your mother and I would fully support having a grandkid sooner than expected, and being a bastard is no real drawback as far as we are concerned. And frankly, we're filthy rich, so money and such is quite literally no object."

Bulma frowned a bit, looking down at her stomach, tail twitching a bit where it poked out from under her. The Doctor sweat-dropped a bit.

"Okay, I guess you weren't thinking about this. Well, no need for a snap decision. Tell you what, if you want to talk, call your mother and me, but if you wait too long you know she will barge in, and I refuse to be held responsible for that or anything that may follow-"

"I would like to see it through," Bulma said firmly.

"Uh, you did hear me say no snap decisions needed, right?" Dr Briefs asked.

"Yep, but I think the fact I wasn't really considering that says a lot."

"…Absentmindedness may make you leave your gun in the fridge, honey, that doesn't mean it's a good place to keep it as you pull an uncooked hot dog on a mugger," her father commented.

She threw the magazine in his face.

"Fine! Shows what I get for being considerate and progressive, but your mother's going to go full doting grandma over this, you know. So be prepared for that," he mumbled.

"Just get out, you got your answer," Bulma commanded, brushing herself off with the back of her hands.

"Your mother will no doubt be hitting the magazines and bookstore to fill your head with tips for this and when the baby gets here. If you want peace, you'd be better off hitting the road. Though I'd advise against Goku's house — I get the feeling Chichi would be rather old-fashioned about this," the doctor commented as he made his way to the door.

**X X X**

"Miss Briefs, I think there's been a mistake on this order," the contractor said. Bulma looked up from her table in the dinosaur garden, fixing the middle-aged man in the hard hat with a glare. She was only halfway through her honey-barbecued boa constrictor, and her garlic-fried potatoes were running late, and now this.

"What?" she answered with one word.

"Well, bomb shelters normally go on the first floor, or preferably in a basement," he explained, showing her the printouts on his clipboard.

"Well yes, but you're upgrading that room to be my baby's nursery, not a bomb shelter," Bulma pointed out.

"What? But… these walls, the doors and windows…" the man said, stunned.

"All reasonable precautions," Bulma told him.

"…Are you excepting to be targeted for assassination?" he asked.

"No. Now get to work, the data's alright," Bulma snapped, ripping more snake meat off he bone, "And where's that eel steak in sage and red wine sauce!?"

**X X X**

"Oh my, it's like a painting just ready to be painted!" Mrs Briefs said, positively wiggling in excitement as she stood with Bulma, looking over the new nursery. Except for the fortified windows, it looked normal.

"This baby will be strong, so whatever we have here will need to contain him when he's feeling fussy," Bulma said, patting her stomach, which had only just started to show. She smirked, looking it over and visualizing her plans for the impending super baby.

She wasn't sure how strong Goku had been as a baby, but he'd been surprising her since she met him, and Shenron had promised her a man like him. And the other qualities she wanted; it wasn't the boyfriend she was looking for, but an ideal son, that was nothing to sneeze at.

"Dearie, must you insist it's a boy like that? It'd be a nice change after having only girls, but don't throw out the idea of a darling little princess!" her mother pleaded. Bulma smirked; she hadn't told them anything, they didn't know she knew.

"Princess? Ha! If anything, she'd be rescuing the prince from the dragon! But its a boy, so we'll keep it classic — he'll get all the ladies and money and leave the other guys frustrated and broke!" she said, grinning wide and rubbing her belly.

"Ahh! You remind me of your father when I was pregnant. But more importantly, are you thinking classic boy blue or a daring red with some rococo?" Mrs. Briefs asked, holding up pictures, one in each hand.

"I am thinking… Wild West theme!" Bulma declared, pulling a cowboy hat out of somewhere and putting it on.

"…No, dear," Mrs. Briefs said, sweat-dropping.

**X X X**

"Pathetic! You call this a quality product?!" Bulma demanded, shouting down the personal shopper aide. The poor man in the cheap suit and sleeked haircut was practically falling backwards as the heiress loomed over him.

"But, but, but," he stuttered. With growl, Bulma stood back straight, tail swinging irritably, holding two halves of the blue onesie.

"This thing tore apart too easily! I won't have my child crawling around in the buff like he was some street baby. I need clothes that can take some punishment. Maybe give it back, even!" she huffed.

"But Miss, it only needs to withstand a baby's efforts," the man pleaded hesitantly, righting himself. Bulma smacked him on top of the head.

"Are you saying my son would be weak!? Forget this store, I'll just make them myself! They'll be bulletproof, flameproof, knife-proof, sword-proof, spear-proof, lots of stuff proof! …and machine washable!" Bulma declared, stopping to read the tag on one of the pieces she was holding.

"What, what exactly are you expecting your baby to be doing?" the poor man asked, looking at her baby bump with concern.

"Don't know, but he'll look great while doing it," Bulma said, tossing the torn clothes onto the man's head before storming out.

"Father was right, I should have been a clown like him and kept some dignity," the shopping aide sighed.

**X X X**

Bulma smirked as she looked over the nursery, fully carpeted and painted. Her mother stood in the door behind her, smiling.

"Dear, I am so glad you changed your mind, but… I'm not sure this was a step in the right direction," Mrs. Briefs said. The walls and ceiling were painted with medieval murals, including a dragon being disemboweled by a knight and a gowned princess, that was Bulma, seated on a throne looking… shifty.

"What? We're practically royalty," Bulma said, puffing out her chest.

"Have you considered fuzzy bears?" Mrs. Briefs asked.

"No," Bulma said plainly.

"…So are you going to let Goku know?" her mother asked.

"Know what?" Bulma asked.

"Oh, playing it that way, are you? Well, I suppose he doesn't need to know per se, but children do ask questions eventually, dear. And Goku's such a charming boy. You really dropped the ball not snatching him up when you could. You had him alone in your room and everything, years before the wedding," Mrs. Briefs shook her head in disappointment.

"Mom! He was like 12 at the time!" Bulma protested, waving her arms.

"Bulma, if I had that attitude, I'd never have landed a prize like your father. And you sit around lamenting that you're still single," Mrs. Briefs sighed, shaking her head.

"Agh!" Bulma shrieked, covering her ears and trying to expel the image conjured through her wide, blazing eyes.

**X X X**

Bulma slurped down the last of the soup and sighed, nodding her head at the dish. Then broke the empty bowl on the table, which was already littered with destroyed cutlery. All the tables around her in the restaurant were vacant, pristine with their white table clothes and not discarded centerpieces, while hers was covered in ruin, but not a single scrap of wasted food.

"Another! I'm eating for two, and this boy's a glutton," Bulma demanded, patting her taut stomach through the pregnancy clothes.

"Mrs. Briefs, was it?" the waitress asked.

"It's Miss, not married, and don't rub it in. And make it a double. And more of those hard bread thingies stuffed with the spicy meat," Bulma ordered, leaning back in the chair.

"Miss, we are out of almost everything," the waitress interrupted, leaning down.

"…ARE YOU CALLING ME FAT!?" Bulma roared, flipping the table.

**X X X**

"So, banned from another restaurant, was she?" Dr. Briefs asked as he looked over the latest version of the nursery.

"Yes, her temper has gotten so bad. I don't recall being so prone to pointless destruction at all," Mrs. Briefs remarked.

"Well, unlike her, you weren't single and unattended in your bedroom needs," he pointed out, stepping up to appreciate the space mural on the wall.

"Oh, of course, that would explain it," Mrs. Briefs gave a relieved laugh.

"Well, space isn't a bad theme, think she'll stick to it?" he asked.

"Well, I'm not happy with it. It's not cute at all. And is the dead astronaut really necessary?" she asked, pointing to the skull-faced spacesuit painted on the ceiling.

"Unfortunately yes, dear. There must be those who die for science, for the sake of those of us smart enough to make sure it's other people who die for science."

…

…

"Want to break in our future grandchild's nursery?" she asked.

"Aww, I hoped you would agree that we should keep the tradition alive," he smiled, putting out his cigarette and loosening his tie.

**X X X**

"Pull!" Bulma ordered. The launcher responded to the command, sending a huge clay pigeon flying into the sky. Bulma took aim, and squeezed the trigger. The rocket whizzed past the clay pigeon and crashed down to hit a tree, blowing it up.

"Darn it!" Bulma cursed, throwing aside the shoulder-mounted rocket launcher.

"Dear, why are you attacking the forest again? I told you years ago, the man-eating tree stories your father told you were just to keep you from wandering off during picnics," her mother said, handing Bulma a juice.

"I'm not trying to blow up trees, it's target practice," Bulma snapped.

"Your aim is terrible. Why don't you just use more standard guns? You've been good with a pistol since you were eight," Mrs Briefs pointed out.

"Too small. And did it ever occur to you that giving kids guns could be harmful?" Bulma asked.

"We made sure you had ear protection and everything," her mother objected.

"Ugh, how do you people exist?" Bulma demanded sullenly.

"So anyway, why the explosive rampage sweetie?"

"Because I'm fat! And this little jerk won't stop kicking," Bulma said.

"Ohh! He's kicking? Can I feel!?" Mrs. Briefs practically fell over from excitement.

"Sure, he's about due to treat me like a kickball," Bulma grumbled, checking her watch. Practically buzzing in excitement, the blonde went to her knees and felt over her daughter's baby bump with her hands.

"Ouch!" Mrs. Briefs said, pulling back her left hand and massaging it. Her eyes actually opened all the way, cradling her hand as Bulma gave her a lidded look.

"Yeah, got some kick to him. It's like I swallowed someone whole and they're not going down without taking me with them. I haven't slept for more than two hours since he started. And I'm pretty sure my abdomen is full of bruises. Can't wait till he's out here, so's I can hit him back," Bulma grumbled.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Briefs said, getting to her feet and puling Bulma into a hug, "You need a baby shower to turn that frown upside down!"

**X X X**

Bulma slouched on the couch as the disco ball sun cast its light over the darkened room and the band played a jazzy tune. They had rented out the biggest room in this banquet hall; her father didn't allow her mother to hold parties at Capsule Corp ever since the Giraffe Incident.

It was proving to be wasted money along with time, Bulma noted, slouching deeper.

"Well, you do look great in that dress," Launch said. The other blunette was seated next to Bulma, wearing a more conservative dress than the provocative pregnancy dress Bulma had on.

They were the only two in the large, table-filled and dance floored room.

"So, when do your other gal pals get here?" Launch asked. Bulma just lifted a finger and pointed at her.

"Oh dear! I thought you were popular," Launch pointed out.

"No, I'm great! And it inspires jealousy — none of those rubes from school or work appreciate me!"

"Not even for the free buffet?" Launch asked, pointing to the monumental array of food off to the side.

"No Launch! Not even for that!" Bulma shouted at her friend.

"Oh dear, we don't have nearly enough girls for a proper party," Mrs. Briefs said, walking up to them. Both women turned to the new arrival, only to squeak and avert their eyes.

"Mom! Why!?" Bulma shrieked.

"Don't worry dear, no whip for you, you're expecting. Did some other rich family poach your guests?" Bulma's mother asked.

"I am curious, what was the plan here?" Launch asked.

"Augh! I was thinking that some disaster would unfold and ruin the initial party anyway, getting the gang together. And then after Goku beat up whatever, I'd just use what was left as a celebration party and tell the others I'm pregnant all in the bargain! It never occurred to me disaster wouldn't strike!" Bulma groaned, head in her hands, "And mom, please put on a skirt, or pants!"

"And cover up this nice leather? It's so rare I get the chance to wear it in public. But we do have a problem, but there's a simple solution."

"Reschedule?" Launch asked.

"No, silly! Money! It's a nice night out — you and me will hit the town with cash and round up some fun-loving girls to get this party started!"

"…So, I'm one of those people who needs to bribe people to hang out with me?" Bulma groaned.

"No, you just need them to be crazy first. Unfortunately, you only have one crazy lady to have fun with."

"Some people count me as two," Launch remarked, holding up two fingers.

**X X X**

"Well, this is a fine pot of fish," Bulma harrumphed from the bar where she was sipping a juice. Her mother continued to block her from any alcohol. Maybe it was for the best; with her luck, the boy would be a mean drunk.

The party was underway, and in total chaos.

Her mother had somehow, despite how she was dressed, lured a bunch of college freshmen — er, freshgirls — and had gotten sidetracked educating them on "big girl stuff". Bulma's objection at the tangent had been dismissed by her being too pregnant to take part, and her mother then ordering some male strippers when she realized it was turning out to be a peach festival.

Launch was worse. Apparently she sneezed at some point, and had decided to pocket the bribe money and round up some girls "the fun way". Currently, the diabolical blonde was forcing about twenty women to sing at gunpoint on the stage, while putting her feet up and drinking whiskey from the bottle.

"Am I chopped liver at my own baby shower!?" Bulma screamed from her barstool.

"No ladies, you need to put your full body into the motion while maintaining control. Have any of you played tennis?"

"I said hit those high notes! Hit them like they owe you money! Or like you owe them money and they think they can collect!"

"…You know what? I didn't want this party anyway!" Bulma yelled. No one noticed her, with the sound of helicopters overhead roaring. Carrying the prime rib haunch from the buffet, Bulma walked out, trying not to waddle and scowling to herself.

Alas, she soon lost the meat when the police swarmed her, commandeering the food as evidence and throwing a blanket over her and inquiring about the hostage crisis. After yet another stupid delay, she made her way to the nearest all-night sushi bar and parked herself in a stool.

**X X X**

Bulma raised her cup of juice to the TV mounted in the corner of the sushi bar, showing her smiling mother getting put into a patrol car and carted off. Yeah, the Briefs family had made the news again, and her mom was off to the gray bar country club, again. Launch, it seemed, was still at large, having somehow stolen a police aircraft and shot down two others.

Bulma turned her attention back to her empty tray and snapped her fingers for more sushi. She had not bothered keeping track of the servings, but she checked her wristwatch. Blinking, the heiress looked to the narrow storefront and saw the sky was lightning; it was less night now and more morning. She'd spent the night pigging out and moving back and forth from the bathroom. Draining her glass, she smacked it down on the bar.

Girl laughter drew her attention down the bar. Two girls, pretty things she supposed, looked to be about sixteen. They were dressed for clubbing or whatever at that age, with that satisfied but tired look she knew so well. They'd had a night of fun, when it was still new and exotic.

"What a piggy," one of them snickered to her friend.

"A preggy piggy," the other added; they practically fell off their barstools at that. Bulma's sushi arrived and she stabbed a piece with the chopsticks, cracking the plate.

"Ohhh! She's mad, must be the hormones."

"Well, it's probably for the best. She's not getting any younger."

"Don't see a riiinggg!" one sang.

Gobsmacked, Bulma did not turn to watch the two go after they paid their bill. Looking to the mirror over the bar, Bulma took in her pregnancy dress of red, rumpled by the night, the spiky afro hairstyle she had somehow kept all these months, and even the tail behind her. She'd meant to restyle her hair and get rid of that thing.

But the only thing that had changed was her long-lost waistline.

She could remember being like those girls, like when she met Goku. But she wasn't now. She was an adult in the uncool ways, wasn't she? And she doubted any dragon could fix that!

"Fuck me!" Bulma wailed.

"Isn't that what got you into this mess?!" one of the party girls said, loitering in the door. Bulma's plate nailed the girl in the face, and she went down like a bag of onions. The other one shrieked and rang away while a snarling Bulma got to her feet.

"Send the bill to Dr. Briefs!" Bulma growled, stamping her way out, making sure to step on the teen brat twice.

**X X X**

"Welcome home honey, did you enjoy your stay at the gray bar country club?" Dr. Briefs asked, handing his wife a beer as she took off her jacket to reveal one of her typical shoulder-baring outfits.

"Oh yes, I made so many new friends. They just loved the care packages you sent in. Honestly, if Bulma weren't expecting, I'd have asked the lawyers to dial things back," Mrs. Briefs pouted.

"Well, it's a good thing you're back, she's firmly into the third round now. And it ain't pretty," the doctor said as they walked through the interior garden, dinosaurs grazing nearby.

"Well, at least she won't be eating as if food was about to go out of style anymore."

"But she is! Even more so, by my numbers. She spends more time eating and in the toilet than in bed."

"Oh dear, she isn't falling into that 'you can't get fat while pregnant' trap, is she?" the concerned mother asked.

"No, it's breaking even, somehow," he told her.

"Hmm, do you think it has something to do with her fashionable new appendage?" Mrs Brief asked tapping her chin.

"How should I know? I'm a wires and metal scientist, not a goop and poop one. If I was, she'd have been on the slab months ago. More to the point, she almost shot me in the face last time I asked how she was doing. So I'm tagging you in; put that woman's touch to good use," he said.

"Don't worry, I've brushed up on how to deal with murderous women," she said cheerfully smacking a fist into her palm.

"Aren't most of them minimum security con artists?"

"We aren't the only ones with good lawyers, dear."

**X X X**

"Mom? Go away," Bulma commanded. She was seated on her couch, but looked like she rolled out of bed after a very nasty party. Bloodshot eyes, a top she had clearly slept in, no pants in evidence, bags under her eyes, and of course, the belly.

"Oh dear, you really are getting hit hard," Mrs. Briefs said as Bulma ignored her in favor of grabbing a large bowl that looked suited to hold popcorn but instead held ramen. Without even bothering with chopsticks, the pregnant woman drained it in one impressive pull. With an unladylike sound, she slammed it onto the coffee table. And then bolted.

Mrs. Briefs followed at a proper pace to find the door to Bulma's personal bathroom closed.

"Out the exit or the entrance, dear?" she asked, rapping on the door.

"This kid is sitting on my bladder on purpose!" Bulma bellowed.

"Ah, business as usual for this point, then," Mrs Briefs chirped.

"This cannot be normal! Or you would not have two children! Did you freaks grow me in a lab?! Is that why I'm so amazing?!" Bulma shouted through the door.

"Your father won't do anything more genetic than cloning, dear. And no, I made you in my oven with your father's special sauce."

"Do not. Use. Food related. References! I am living between trying to sleep around this maniac sitting on my bladder and then trying to use my other organs for kickboxing practice! If he weren't in me, I'd spank him so much! But trying to punch him now hurts me more than it hurts him! It's not fair!"

"Well, if you want to avoid the trips to the bathroom, we can always hook you up with some state of the art absorbency. I'm sure it's a look you could pull off!"

The door slammed open, and Mrs. Briefs actually took a step back at the sight of her daughter with bared teeth and crazier eyes than usual.

"That image! Take it back out of my head! Now!" Bulma roared, grabbing her mother by the shoulders and shaking her.

**X X X**

"Fortunately, I was able to distract her with a trip to the spa and stylist," Mrs. Briefs told her husband. They were seated around the table in the dinosaur garden with plate of sandwiches between them.

"Huh, I always figured if Bulma was going to murder one of us, it'd be me to for the money."

"Oh, you just don't understand girls sometimes, honey."

*BOOM*

"Are we under attack?" Dr. Briefs asked at the sound of the boom.

"That wasn't an explosion. I think someone slammed the front door really hard?"

"Guess Bulma's back."

They went to the kitchen, where a cat woman cook was busy trying to whip up a meal quick as possible, while a well-dressed, and washed, but still weary and cranky-looking Bulma slumped in a chair, devouring fruit from a basket on the table.

"So, you decided to stick with the afro look?" Mrs. Briefs remarked with surprise. The afro had been trimmed down clearly, but its shape and texture were pretty much the same.

"No, it's stuck," Bulma grunted.

"Pardon?" her mother asked, while Dr. Briefs turned on the coffee maker.

"Ten bottles of their strongest hair gel couldn't get it to stay down, or go in a different shape. When they tried heating it, it burst into flame before budging!" Bulma said, pointing to her hair.

"Well, that would explain the smell," her father remarked, intently watching the coffee be prepared.

"Well, at least they scrapped off the burnt part well. You have lovely volume, and still so soft," Mrs. Briefs said with a smile. Standing behind Bulma, she felt out her daughter's hair appreciatively.

"Maybe I should just shave it all off. I could wear a different wig everyday. Never have to shampoo again," Bulma grumbled.

"Nonsense, you'd miss taking care of it and you know it," Mrs Briefs teased.

"Stop being so cheery. It's weird. I'm weird," Buoma groaned.

"Bulma, as a man of science, I can tell you with certainty, the world doesn't make a lick of sense. So if anything, you're just par for the course to anyone who's actually paying attention to this bizarre circus we call reality," Dr. Briefs said, drumming his fingers as he waited for coffee.

"I just want this done," Buma groaned.

"Oh, it'll be over before you know it."

_Some Months Later:_

"It's everywhere! My water broke, or I'm dying?! My dying broke!" Bulma's shriek echoed through Capsule Corp.

"Well, it's about time," Dr. Briefs said, not looking up from his magazine.

_Maternity Ward Waiting Room:_

"Dr. Briefs, why did you wait so long to bring her in?" an MD asked through a medical mask. Ignoring the no smoking sign, Dr. Briefs took a drag on his cigarette. They were standing in a waiting room with other patients' loved ones seated about or pacing.

"What are you talking about? We loaded her into the car and drove over as soon as we heard her bellow," the mega rich scientist said. The MD reached out and pinched his smoke out, frowning under her mask.

"I find that hard to believe, she looks to be far along."

"Well, she's been a bit off since she grew a tail. I don't know, you people are the alleged experts," he shrugged.

The MD walked off, grumbling. Briefs took a seat in the waiting room and reached into his lab coat, pulling a book out of the inner pocket. For just such occasions, he made sure to aways have the finest literature on hand to pass the time.

"XXX Marks the Spot, truly a timeless classic in adult entertainment," he proudly remarked, raising the book, whose cover girl was kept from total indecency only by the title and author's name.

"Do you mind?" a middle-aged woman with a toddler said next to him.

"Sorry, I have a capsule with magazines if you want one, but this book deserves a proper pocket, and I only have so many of those," he said not taking his eyes off the page.

_Ten Minutes Later:_

"Dr. Briefs, would you like to meet your grandson?" the MD said, emerging while holding a cloth to a bleeding nose.

"What happened to you? Bulma deck ya?" he asked, tucking his book carefully into its pocket.

"The baby punched me in the face," the doctor said flatly.

"…Huh. You know, beyond just being polite about seeing him before he is washed and everything, I really am curious now. Lead on," Dr. Briefs said, tucking his book back in.

**X X X**

When the doctor got onto the serious track for medical training, the flakes and ambitious fools weeded out, one of the first things she had been told was that you would see and hear everything. Every possible excuse, however transparent, for why something happened. Anomalies so odd they'd send you to drink just for the mind-bending. Acts and words of stupidity from patients that would make you want to chuck the whole thing in and let these morons kill themselves. There would be days upon days you would regret getting on this path, envying anyone who didn't have to deal with what you did.

That had been a long time ago, but even with the relatively limited scope of the maternity ward, it had played out. Like that one human couple who insisted their baby being a wolfman was because she ate too much cheese under a full moon and that caused aliens to make the baby look like their mailman. The doctor could go on.

Suffice to say, when Bulma Briefs was brought in, cursing a storm, threatening her unborn child, and with a tail of all things on, the doctor had not been impressed. When she realized the tail was real, and Miss Briefs' file clearly stated her as human with respectable high profile doctors' names on that file, she began to feel some concern. Then the talk with the mega rich smoker on the timing…

And then the birth went quicker and smoother than it had any right to. As if the mother's body actually obeyed and responded to her rage, expelling the baby as quick, no, quicker than was possible. It was training and experience that let the doctor hold her composure when several of her staff were visibly disturbed. Not just by the impossible birth, but many no doubt were worried the woman would actually murder her son the moment she got her hands on him.

The baby seemed healthy, albeit with an abnormally-full head of dark blue hair that was standing and styled into short spikes. And a tail hanging limp but twitching.

"It's a boy!" she confirmed to the room.

"Good! That way I can make him feel ashamed if he cries when I throttle him!" Bulma Briefs gasped out, somehow sitting up on her elbows to glare. Fixed with that look, the doctor reflexively drew the baby close.

And a hammer hit her in the nose.

The doctor staggered. She just stood there, blinking, unable to wrap her head around what happened as the baby yowled in her arms. Someone complained the umbilical cord wasn't cutting, that the scissors must have been neglected. Then the new mother was there, and to all horror bit through the cord before snatching the baby.

"YOU!" she accused the infant, holding him out.

The angle was wrong to see the baby's face, but she could hear it burble happily and start waving its arms toward the mother, legs kicking playfully and tail swishing.

Then the raging murderous woman was a cooing mother, who plopped back into bed and dropped the cute look to angrily demand more morphine, or whatever they had "on tap" as she put it.

Someone handed the doctor a washcloth for the bleeding nose and she walked out on autopilot to deliver the news, and the new grandmother swept in with a video-camera from the corner she had been lurking in.

She'd later learn the child had been named Boxer in honor of his first act in life, and in honor of underwear, apparently. He also broke several fingers, including his grandfather's for trying to tickle him. The only person it seemed was truly safe from the creature she'd helped bring into the world was the new doting mother.

This was heard after the fact, because that was the first time in the doctor's career she left early, hang the consequences. And that was one shift for the books, she knew, before even getting the chance to sleep on the madness.

**X X X**

"Well kiddo, this is home!" Bulma announced, getting out of the car. Her dad got out, illegally parking at the spot Bulma had yelled at him to stop at. A good front view of Capsule Corp.

Contrary to what people might think, he didn't have a chauffeur. He had taken the wheel at 15 with a forged license, and neither man, animal, person, dinosaur, and especially not one of his robots, had taken the steering wheel out of his hands since.

"Take it in, Boxer," Bulma declared, hefting the baby she had given birth to a whopping six hours ago. He laughed, tugging on part of her afro before she shifted him to look in the direction she wanted.

"I'd say this will all be yours Boxer, but I think you can do better. So consider this, the starting line," Bulma cackled, which seemed to please the baby, whose head was covered in dark blue little spikes.

"Honey, are you planning world domination for my grandson?" he asked, lighting a cigarette.

"Oh dad, don't be silly. Now let's get him some formula. And now I can drink again!" Bulma declared triumphantly. She and his wife walked down across the lawn, already chatting excitedly about what drink she would break her dry period with.

"I don't know whether to be concerned that the whole birthing thing went better than possible, or that she may have said my idea was silly because she wants him to rule the galaxy or something. Oh well, better park properly and grab a beer before Bulma drinks us dry and ends up back in the hospital," the wealthy scientist shrugged, getting back into his car.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_And its a boy! This was a fun chapter, Bulma and her family are fun to write. _

_Next chapter brings a time skip to land us in the Z era. While I could probably do a chapter or two on Boxer's earliest years I have learned over my own years writing to prioritize, and in this case I decided its better to get on to the meat of the story and any stand out moments in the skipped sections can be covered by flashbacks._

_Anyway, hope you enjoy this and this can be either a send off for a great year to you or a bracer hoping for a better year to come._

_Happy New Year to you all._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Ball Z! Or DBZ Abridged.

_Betaed_ _by_: Zim'smostloyalservant, Trackula, and Phillip.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

_Say Uncle!_

Bulma grinned as her PAT cut through the sky. She had customized the heck out of the thing. The controls were sensitive and responsive, along with its increased speed, probably super illegal. But it made trips like rollercoaster rides when she wanted it to.

"Wohhh!" Boxer cried out in excitement from the shotgun seat where he was strapped in. Bulma smiled at him without taking her eyes off the windshield as they skirted the ocean.

Her son was four going on five, and already a terror to his age mates. He had what she'd call an honest face, and was about typical for his size. His hair was his most stand out feature, matching her own save it was dark enough blue it only showed under certain light.

As for his behavior, she'd call it strong but not terribly polished. Not a bully, she'd not have him sinking so low, but she had made clear the first time she took him to a playground to not let anyone push him around. When some jerk kicked down his sandcastle the first time, Boxer had knocked out three of the other kid's teeth. Bulma would always treasure the look on that lazy excuse for a mother's face when Bulma's reaction to being told what happened while she was reading her magazine. As if she was obligated to be outraged for her son standing up for himself and putting others in their place! Ha!

He had the right attitude; he was not some low-brow thug, he was a prince and getting what he wanted needed to have the proper framing. Oh sure, he was rough around the edges, and her dad had sadly deemed his intelligence mediocre from all tests so far, but so what? He had room to grow, and he could always rule at something other than science.

Which was one reason she was pleased to answer this reunion call at Kame House. She may have ended up workout buddies with her son so as to get him to go to bed at a sane hour, but she was no trainer. Not that having an even hotter body with extra tone was a bad thing, but her son wasn't looking for a bit more tone. His favorite bedtime stories didn't come from a book. They were the stories of Son Goku.

'It's been more than five years now. I wonder if you've changed any, Goku,' she thought a bit wistfully.

She hadn't really heard hide nor hair of the gang since then. She'd been too busy with Boxer and her father trying to rope her into at least a bit of prep for one day running Capsule Corp.

Whatever happened to Launch? Last she'd heard, she was fleeing the police after that disaster of a baby shower.

"Mama, Kame House!" Boxer shouted, pointing as they came up on the island. His eyes were a twinkle, thrilled at visiting a place from the stories.

"Let's get you a close look at it," she smirked, speeding up and dropping altitude.

She could practically hear the codger scream as she buzzed his house by a hairsbreadth.

**X X X**

Bulma was still chuckling as she landed her craft on the beach, Muten Roshi already practically simmering as he stomped over.

"Dang it, woman! You nearly took my roof off! Who gave you a license?" he demanded as Bulma opened the door and got out.

"Your place probably needs a new roof anyway. Besides, it's not like you're poor — that diamond alone should have set even you up for decades."

"Bah, spoiled rich girl doesn't know the value of money."

"Woah!" Boxer said, dangling himself out the door behind Bulma.

"Huh?" Roshi said, sunglass-covered eyes turning to the kid. Boxer smiled and launched himself at the old master.

"Hai!" They both cried. Boxer went flying, colliding with one of the island's few trees, which shook under the impact.

"What the heck? I don't think a kid that small has ever hit me that hard," Roshi mused, shaking his arm in puzzlement.

"Heh, my Boxer packs quite the punch, wouldn't you say?" Bulma preened.

"…Pardon?" Roshi said.

"You had a kid?!" Krillin shouted, practically dropping the unopened beer he was carrying.

"Hey Krillin. I don't see any other crafts; did you swim here or have you finally invested in some capsules?" Bulma asked, taking the beer from his hand.

"Hey now, don't dodge his question. Are you saying you had a kid? That kid?" Roshi demanded, while Bulma drained the beer in one drag. Finishing the can, Bulma crushed it and let out a happy sigh.

"Yes, meet Boxer Briefs. Four going on five. And I've told him tons of stories about all of you, so try not to be too disappointing," Bulma said, casually littering by dropping the can.

"Well, it hasn't hurt your figure," Roshi commented, looking her up and down.

"I think motherhood has made her aura even more intimidating, though," Krillin commented. Bulma conked them both on the head.

"She is hitting harder, though! Did you start training?" Roshi asked, one of his eyes actually partially exposed.

"Heh," Bulma flexed an arm, the short sleeve showing some dense muscle, even if little compared to what these two would expect. But compared to last time, it was definitely an improvement.

"Just weights and exercises, nothing like the madness you guys are into. Needed to keep in shape after swelling up, and it's a good stress reliever."

"Hmm," Roshi gave a look of deep thought. In truth, he was visualizing Bulma working up a sweat like one of the hotties in his favorite exercise program. Ah, the classics of television, he mused.

"Wow, he hits hard!" Boxer shouted, picking himself up. Rather than run over, he ran behind the house.

"Huh, so why didn't we get invited to the wedding?" Krillin asked.

"Oh, you think that much of yourselves, do you? That you'd be invited to the wedding of one of the richest, most beautiful, and brilliant women on the planet?" Bulma said, puffing up her hair while striking a sexy pose.

"Still single, eh?" Krillin stated. Bulma flinched and gave him a frown.

"It's a more feminine pride to be a single mother in today's society!" Bulma defended.

"Isn't that for women who can't just hire an army of servants to do all the heavy lifting?" Krillin asked.

"Well, I actually became a mother over these years! Have you two done anything with your lives or are you still the same losers I remember!?" Bulma demanded.

"I hope the nanny is a nicer role model," Krillin whispered to Roshi while Bulma fumed.

"Quiet. Angry women-" Roshi hushed, before Krillin got clonked again.

"-have inconveniently good hearing. Well, you brought that on yourself, m'boy," Roshi said, stroking his beard.

"I found the sea turtle!" Boxer yelled, coming back into view, holding the distressed creature over his head. And also clearly displaying his tail for the first time.

Roshi and Krillin's jaws dropped. Bulma could practically see the neglected gears in their heads spinning to life. Boxer's resemblance, the tail, his age… They looked back to Bulma, mouths still agape while blushing.

"Not a word!" Bulma demanded, holding up an authoritative finger. Still blushing herself, though.

She had never gotten her parents to stop thinking Boxer was Goku's son, and for all she knew he might actually be half Goku from Dragon mischief. But all her old friends already thought she had sex with Goku, so better to just follow through on that than be humiliated that the Dragon had screwed her over in a wish.

"You! Keep him occupied. You, we need to talk," Bulma said, pointing first to Krillin then Roshi.

**X X X**

Bulma closed the front door to Kame House, hoping for Krillin and Turtle to keep Boxer occupied for awhile.

"So, have you been seeing Goku?" Roshi asked, heading to the kitchen calmly.

"No, I haven't heard from him since the wedding reception," Bulma admitted. She looked down to the floor a bit at that.

"Hmm, usually I'd pity a man for getting a hole in one on his first try, but it seems to have worked out," Roshi said, pulling a bottle of red wine and a pair of glasses out of a cabinet.

"What are you doing?" Bulma asked, as he uncorked the bottle with ease, using thumb and forefinger.

"What? A toast is in order for the firstborn child of one of my students," he said, filling both glasses halfway. Eyeing him suspiciously, Bulma still joined him in a little toast to the next generation.

"Any particular reason I'm only hearing about this now? Aren't we friends?" Roshi asked, with a look that made her question if he couldn't hold wine.

"No, we're not. We're acquaintances that have mutual friends. And besides, me having kids or not was none of your business," Bulma said flatly.

"Cruel as ever. You'd think the rich could afford to be polite. Well, you brought him here when you could have answered the invitation yourself and leave me and Krillin none the wiser. Why the change?" Roshi asked, refilling their glasses.

"Because my son has the heart of a fighter. When I tell him stories of Goku or other heroes, I can see in his eyes he wants to live that kind of life."

"Isn't that at least every other boy?" Roshi asked.

"Oh, don't think a girl can want to slay a dragon rather than be rescued?" Bulma half-teased. Roshi just shrugged.

"I never claimed to understand women."

"Anyway, fact is, my son is not a chip off my block. His intelligence is average overall, he's not going to be making miracles in the lab or conquering the corporate scene. But he's strong, and driven to grow stronger. I refuse the notion my son will be mediocre. If he can't follow in the Capsule Corp footsteps, he'll rule another road," Bulma said, dramatically looking up and clenching her fist as if a spotlight was on her.

"Uh, he's not even five, right? Isn't it a bit early to be making such declarations?" Roshi pointed out.

"You're not a parent, you wouldn't understand the urgency of making sure your kid has a bright future," Bulma snapped, knocking back the wine before continuing, "He likes exercise and weight training, and I've learned a good bit of it to show him and even taken it up myself. But for me, it's just stress relief, and making my hot body hotter. He wants to do things with strength. And I can't help with that. Boxer is going to be a legend, but he needs someone to turn this passion and talent into a champion's skill."

Roshi smiled and adjusted his glasses to catch the light.

"Ah, I see what you're driving at," he said.

"Good. I was hoping you could recommend a good teacher for him," Bulma said. Roshi froze, letting Buma take the bottle out of his hand. Then he face-faulted into the floor as the afroed woman took a drag directly from the bottle.

"Blast it, woman! I am the Muten Roshi! Good luck finding a better trainer of champions than me!" he shouted.

"You?! I don't want my son to be some pathetic pervert. Goku's so dense he was immune to your corruption! Poor Krillin after all these years is still the loser he was last time. I need better for my son."

"Hmph! No respect! But as a martial artist, it would be unethical not to help the son of a student of mine find a teacher, even if his mother is being unreasonable-" Roshi grumbled.

"Goku! Goku's here!" Krillin shouted outside. Roshi watched as Bulma's face lit up and she practically knocked his door off, rushing out.

"Ah, a childhood friendship? Or do you still carry some kind of torch? Careful, Bulma, you may have been his first in so many things, but his life has grown well beyond any claim you had to it," Roshi pondered to himself, before following her out.

**X X X**

"Goku!" Bulma shouted happily, barely touching the porch to reach the grass.

There he was, hardly changed, save a bit taller perhaps.

"Bulma!" he greeted cheerfully. Bulma glomped him in a hug, letting her momentum impact him. Didn't move him a hair; of course, she thought.

"It's been so long!" Bulma cheered.

"Sure has. Hey, your hair is super soft," Goku said as she broke away, patting her hair.

"Watch the hands, mister, who knows where that might end," Bulma chuckled, giving him a look.

"Goku! Son Goku!" Boxer shouted. Bulma turned and saw him standing there, grinning and starry-eyed, still holding Turtle over his head. The ancient reptile looked rather distressed.

"Hello, Goku. Would you kindly?" Turtle asked. With a laugh, Goku lifted Turtle out of Boxer's hands and set him down, eliciting a sigh of relief from the old friend.

"Hey there! Are you a new student?" Goku asked. Boxer didn't answer, looking like he was going to fall over.

Bulma puffed out her chest and grabbed Goku's shoulder.

"This is my son, Goku! Boxer Briefs! He wants to be a martial artist like you," Bulma declared.

"Wow, so you had a son too! I guess best friends can be alike," Goku laughed.

"That's ri- What!?" Bulma said, her hand staying in the air as Goku stepped away. Pivoting like a pole, Bulma turned around and for the first time noticed a little boy with dark hair wearing a Chinese outfit of gold and green complete with a hat she would describe as unfortunate.

"Goku, you don't mean… I thought you were just getting some money babysitting," Krillin stammered.

"Nope! This is my son, Gohan. Say hi, Gohan," Goku said, kneeling beside the boy.

"Hello," Gohan sad meekly, bowing formally. It looked ridiculous from a kid who at most might be five, but a shocked Bulma was the only one to not return the bow, just nodding her head.

"You, and Chichi…" Bulma stuttered. It felt like something was breaking somewhere to her.

"Yeah, Chichi just loves him. It took a lot of convincing to get her to let me bring him here," Goku said, standing up and rubbing the back of his neck.

"So you named him after your grandfather, eh? A lovely tribute to one of my greatest students," Roshi remarked with a warm smile.

Shock aside, seeing Gohan try and hide behind Goku after holding his composure brought a smile to her face. Bulma walked up to the pair and knelt down, smiling at the boy who watched her warily.

"Hey there, Gohan, I'm Bulma. I bet your dad has told you tons about me," the heiress greeted. Gohan shook his head.

"Oh, yeah, I used to tell stories when he was a baby, but Chichi said we should stick with the kind in books and took over all that stuff. Hmm, I guess I never really did get around to mentioning you guys. Well, all the better that he's here now, right?" Goku said.

'That f-ing-' Bulma thought, before Krillin broke in, shouting about Gohan's tail.

Bulma could hardly be bothered to listen to their panicking. Obviously Goku was taking proper precautions, or Gohan didn't have that power, otherwise they likely would have heard of giant monkey rampages on a monthly basis.

More importantly, her best friend had never mentioned her to his son, because his wife didn't want him to?!

Oh, she couldn't blame Goku for that; he wasn't bad enough to hold a grudge against Piccolo. Chichi, on the other hand, it seemed felt a few ill-advised actions before the wedding meant Bulma could be declared an unperson!

'No, don't ruin this over someone who's not here. This is Goku's son, not just Chichi's.'

"So, Gohan, what do you want to be when you grow up?" Bulma asked a safe question.

"I want to be an orthopedist," Gohan said softly. Bulma blinked.

"How old are you again?" Bulma asked.

"Four and a half," Gohan said, after counting off on his fingers.

Boxer grabbed her skirt with one hand, standing beside her and looking at Gohan.

"Hey, why don't we let the kids play, while we adults talk," Bulma suggested. Boxer cheered, while Gohan looked to his father, who nodded. Bulma smiled as Boxer, in his roughhousing clothes, walked boldly up to Gohan in his — oh, wait, was he wearing a Dragon Ball on that stupid hat?

"Goku, is that the four star?" Bulma asked.

"Sure is. I got it from Grandpa Gohan, so it seemed only right to pass it down to Gohan. I've actually been gathering Dragon Balls for fun, lately. With Piccolo off training, there haven't been any good fights in awhile," Goku sighed.

WHAP

"Waaahh!" Gohan cried out, after Boxer punched hm in the gut.

Boxer blinked in confusion, still holding up his fist as Gohan bent and ran back to Goku, practically jumping into his father's arms.

"That's playing?" Krillin demanded of Bulma, who patted her son on his spiky hair. He was frowning, as he did when not understanding something.

"Boxer tends to play rough. It doesn't work out well with a lot of kids," Bulma offered. It was not lost on Krillin and Roshi there wasn't an apology there.

"But isn't he Goku's kid?" Boxer insisted.

"Well, I never thought about you having a kid, Goku, but have you been training him? I mean, I've been doing my best with Boxer," Bulma said hastily, changing the subject as Goku held his son, who was calming down even if he was staring at Boxer like the other boy was a growling dog.

"Wow, Bulma, so you've been training Boxer? Chichi doesn't want Gohan to be trained. She says martial arts are nothing but a waste of time and energy," Goku reported. He actually looked a bit put out. Son Goku put out, that was a rare sight, Bulma noted.

"Waste? What's she think of us, exactly?" Krllin grumbled.

'What's that say about what she thinks of her husband, exactly?' Bulma thought, picking up Boxer.

"Now, now, it's a simple fact that people will have different values, and the differences won't always be held amiably. It's almost always better to be the bigger person in the face of such clashes. So boy, if there are no martial arts in your future, any ambitions besides a job?" Roshi asked, both waving off Krillin and stepping up to the father and son. Goku put Gohan down, despite the boy's reluctance.

"Not really, I need to be prosperous," Gohan said, almost stumbling on the word.

"Er, you're talking but I'm hearing Chichi," Roshi said, a bit discomfited. Turtle, apparently satisfied that Boxer was safely restrained by Bulma, shoved up to inspect Gohan, who gave his attention to the turtle. Goku went up to Bulma, and Boxer went starry-eyed again.

"Wow, you two have hair that's a lot alike," Goku said, patting both their hairs. Bulma blushed a bit.

'He's married,' Bulma reminded herself.

"Yeah, he inherited my charms too, and he'll be so handsome the ladies will be falling over for him," Bulma boasted.

"I'm surprised you'd train him, Bulma — other than the night before the wedding you never even talked about it," Goku said.

"Er, well, it's nothing special. I can't spar or anything, we mostly just work out and stuff, or I hold a punching bag for him, stuff like that," Bulma said, feeling a bit hot in the face. She didn't want Goku thinking she'd become some lady warrior and disappoint him.

"Well, it's more than I can do with Gohan. I don't want to bother Chichi, but she's way overprotective of him," Goku said. He looked over to his son, who had accompanied Turtle to the tideline; as they watched, the rushing seafoam spooked Gohan, who ran crying back to his father.

'It's just sad,' Bulma couldn't help but think. Her Boxer had attacked the surf the first time she had taken him to the beach. He probably would have drowned himself if she hadn't stomped in to retrieve him, furious at her son disobeying her order to stay by her after not even a minute.

Still, dragging her boy by the tail could keep him in line, but seeing a son of Goku's timid… it was not a proper picture to her.

"Say, Goku, I brought Boxer here not just to meet everyone. But because he wants to be a martial artist," Bulma said. Goku's expression was like someone flipped on his light switch. And Boxer wiggled happily at the sight.

"I want to be the Strongest Under the Heavens!" Boxer yelled, earning a chuckle from Roshi and Krillin. Not that Bulma cared, she was focused on Goku's smile.

"That's not an easy goal, but that can make it even more fun getting there. It took me three times to become the champion," Goku said.

"Uh-hm! Momma told me your stories," Boxer said.

"So you want him to train with Master Roshi?" Goku asked, patting the boy's head again as Gohan still tugged on his father's pants.

"Well, actually, I was wondering," Bulma began, an idea popping into her head.

Then Goku's expression darkened and he jerked, looking out to sea.

"What is it, Goku?" Bulma asked, holding Boxer in a friendly headlock as Gohan clung to his father's leg.

"There's a power approaching. I've never felt anything like it," Goku said, all serious. That was enough to make Bulma grow cold. A new challenge that made Goku wary rather than excited. Her grip on her son turned to pulling him close and looking to the aircraft.

"I can feel it too, is that Piccolo?!" Krillin asked.

"Me too, and it's not," Roshi said darkly.

"Bulma, take Gohan and-" Goku said, grabbing his son and putting him in Bulma's arms as she stood.

"It's here!" Krillin shouted, pointing. Grimacing, Goku turned and they all watched as a giant of a man in strange limb-baring armor landed on the beach. His hair a spiky mane of black nearly reaching the ground, and his left eye covered by a tinted lens from a headpiece. He looked them over with a sneer, until settling on Goku.

Goku hadn't fallen into a stance, but he was clearly ready to move. Just like the stranger, who gave a grin that was in no way reassuring.

"There you are, Kakarot. I see you have grown, though still a tad puny. I was wondering if you'd proven defective with the state of this planet," the stranger remarked.

"Kakarot? I think you have the wrong island, mister," Goku said.

"Hey, that's a bad guy, isn't it? Get him, Goku!" Boxer said, pointing at the intruder as he wiggled out of Bulma's grip and dropped to the ground. The maned man looked to Bulma, his eyes widening a bit as he saw Boxer and Gohan, their tails in particular.

"Well, would you look at that. I suppose you weren't doing 'nothing' this whole time after all, Kakarot," the man said, a bit stunned.

"Who's Kakarot?" Krillin asked. The man ignored the shaved monk, taking a step toward Bulma, who tensed up. Goku put himself between the woman and children, and the hostile man.

"What's this? Don't want your brother to meet your offspring?" the man chuckled.

"Brother? Since when did I have one of those?" Goku asked.

"…Don't tell me… Where is your Saiyan pride?" the man asked, his tone changing.

"My what?" Goku asked, tilting his head.

"You really don't remember yourself? Your race? Your purpose? Did you get hit on the head or something?!" the man roared.

"Oh yeah, a lot! Grandpa Gohan said I fell off a lot of cliffs as a kid," Goku chuckled fondly at the pleasant memories.

"Well, I suppose utter incompetence would explain why these lesser lifeforms aren't all dead," the man growled.

That got everyone further on edge.

"Okay, I can sense you don't mean anyone well, but we've done nothing to you. Who are you, and what's all this Kakarot business?" Goku demanded.

"Heh, I'm not one for history lectures, so I'll keep it simple," the man said, "You're a Saiyan, as am I. I am Raditz of the Saiyans, your older brother. Our race is a terror of the cosmos. In our day, we reduced entire civilizations to ash in days, all so we could profit selling their worlds off to the highest bidder to the wealthy of the universe. But then a cosmic disaster destroyed our planet and most of our race. You were among the survivors, sent as a freshly decanted kid to grow and purge this world for sale. I admit, we kind of forgot about you, but my comrades and I could use an extra hand for a big job, and we realized there was a spare Saiyan lying about with a purged planet as a bonus. Though it seems we broke even. There's no time right now to purge this planet, but here I see two more Saiyans than expected — even if they are weak hybrids, Saiyan blood can elevate even lowly weaklings, I imagine."

"You kill civilizations?" Roshi managed at the news.

"No need to be curious, we'll be back to show you how it works soon enough," Raditz said.

"Enough!" Krillin said, powering up and flying at Raditz at his top speed. The Turtle School fighter was smacked away without the alien raising a hand, knocked clear through the wall of Kame House.

"A tail?" Goku said, Raditz now clearly displaying the appendage, "It's true then?"

"Of course… where's your tail?!" Raditz said, taking notice.

"A friend got rid of it for good. He said it was dangerous, and I trust him," Goku said.

"You, you fool! You'd let them take away your greatest power! You know, I was going to threaten you to join us, but I think you might be a lost cause."

"Well, shooting babies into space might do that," Bulma snarked.

Raditz rushed Goku, no words of challenge or anything. Roshi and Bulma could only watch, stunned, as the Earth's mightiest champion was swiftly defeated in a fast brawl. Gohan cried, burying his face in Bulma's shirt, while Boxer's cheering for Goku gave way to disbelief as he was beaten into the sand.

"Pathetic. Guess you take after Mother — she wasn't fit to be a warrior either. I'll be taking the boys; two fledglings should be about equal to you. But if, when me and the others return, you've done your job, we'll let you back into the fold. Now come to Uncle Raditz," the Saiyan smirked, turning away from Goku. Faster than Bulma could follow, he was in front of her, tearing Gohan out of her arms with a swipe and backhanding her with the backswing.

"Gah!"

"Momma!"

"Bulma!"

"…Impossible," Raditz whispered. Bulma blinked, wondering what had frozen the monster as he held the screaming Gohan by the scruff of his neck. Then she felt her tail sweep on the sand; she had been keeping it wrapped under her skirt, it must have jerked out when she got hit.

"A survivor?" Raditz walked over and grabbed her afro, pulling her to her feet as she yelled. He sniffed her neck as he hoisted her clear off her feet.

"Yes. Yes! Hahahaha! Huh, your hair's off, so I suppose you were exiled for some mutant bloodline? Well, doesn't matter, seems you breed true Saiyans," Raditz said, lashing out with one leg to stomp a charging Boxer into the ground. He looked down and grinned at Boxer glaring up at him, baring fangs.

"Forget breaking even, I have found a most unexpected treasure! The prince will surely grant me great rewards for delivering him a consort! Hahahaha!" Raditz said, stomping Boxer again to knock him out.

"Stop hurting my boy!" Bulma screamed, punching him in the face. He didn't even blink, taking the blow.

"Weak, but then your value isn't as a warrior," Raditz chuckled.

"Goku, he's beyond me, they need you," Roshi said, trying to help Goku to his feet.

"Raditz, don't-" Goku managed, grimacing in pain. The Saiyan tucked Boxer under an arm with a wailing Gohan, while he secured a flailing Bulma under the other.

"Sorry brother, the first law of the Saiyans is to obey the powerful. The weaklings live and die by the will and whim of the strong. You and this woman, you belong to us, you just didn't know it until today."

Then he was gone, streaking across the sky.

**X X X**

Bulma was hoping this was a nightmare. It was insane, all of it. Things like this didn't just happen. Even for her life, it was ridiculous.

It was the sound of a crying child that broke her out of her own thoughts. No longer struggling against Raditz's unyielding grip, she moved to look to where Gohan was wailing under Raditz's other arm. Boxer was next to him, his nose seeming to have been broken by that stomp, with bruises forming under his eyes.

"Gohan, it's going to be alright!" Bulma tried to assure him. She reached toward him, only for Raditz to barrel roll in the air, making her scream.

"Pathetic. I suppose you are ignorant of what it means to be a Saiyan too? At least the one boy acted properly, attacking a threat with everything he had. As the saying goes, it's easier to teach a fool restraint than a coward courage. Ah, and here we are," Raditz said, grinning as he looked down at the ground. They landed by a sphere of white metal. Raditz's ship, Bulma assumed, as a door opened on the side of it.

Despite the situation, she was fascinated — a ship that was at least interstellar could be so small? Or perhaps it was more a landing capsule and Raditz had a more impressive vessel in space?

He tossed the boys into the ship and dropped her on the ground as the door closed.

"You know, it occurs to me woman, if there is one Saiyan woman here there could be more," Raditz said, fixing her with a look.

"There aren't," she told him flatly, meeting his eyes.

"Hmm, let's see how that answer holds up," he said, cracking his knuckles.

"Wait, wait, aren't I some prize for your boss? After all, it wouldn't look good to bring a damaged gift!" Bulma pointed out, scooting back as Raditz casually walked toward her. She could hear Gohan yelling inside the ship.

Raditz grinned.

"You might be surprised how effective a healing tank can be. Besides… Ah, understood. I will proceed," Raditz said, glancing off as he pushed a button on the headset he was wearing.

"Let's start with everything you know about how you came to be on this planet," the Saiyan said.

"Eat sh-" Bulma growled. Before she could finish the retort, Raditz kicked her across the face.

Her vision swam, and she barely felt her head knocking against the ground.

"Are you kidding?! How did you even manage to bear young!?" Raditz demanded as she lost consciousness.

**X X X**

A child screaming brought her back again. Bulma stood rigid, blinking even as her face felt half-dead. Blinking her vision into place, she took a moment to remember why she was on a grassy plain when she spotted Goku getting up.

And Gohan?

"Where's my baby!?" Bulma demanded, getting to her feet.

"Boxer's in the crater," Gohan said, pointing back. Goku called out as Bulma sprinted towards the crater.

"Bulma, you've got capsules, right? You need to get them out of here, Raditz isn't-"

"Dead? Of course not," a voice she was already learning to hate said, freezing her. Radtiz's armor was cracked, and he looked actually a bit beat up, but he was not laid out on the ground like Goku.

"Momma! Gohan broke the thing!" Boxer said, climbing out of the crater and practically jumping into her arms.

"Yes he did!" Radtiz said, kicking Gohan away from Goku like a football.

"Raditz, don't!" Goku shouted.

"That was my ship! It's too much to expect this backwater has a decent replacement. I'll have to call for a ride like a blasted rookie. So you know what? I think Vegeta can settle for just two Saiyans for the price of one."

"No," Goku said. And he moved quicker than Bulma could believe for looking a foot in the grave. Grabbing Raditz in a hold from behind.

"What is this? You think this can hold me for long, Kakarot? Once I kill this one, I'll show your woman and the other one what's what by taking your head off like it was a freaking bottle cap!"

"The flavor might disappoint you. And I don't need to hold you long anyway."

"What?"

"*Special Beam Canon*!"

"Piccolo?!" Bulma said, turning to the source of the voice. Why did he have only one ar- OH NO, Bulma thought as he unleashed a terrifying attack in her son's general direction.

Screaming in fear, she watched as the attack missed Boxer, who threw himself on the ground even though it was wide of him. The attack struck Raditz, and as if in slow motion it tore through him, then Goku.

Bulma stood frozen as time sped up. Before she knew it, she was numbly by the two brothers.

"Blast!" Raditz cursed, blood dripping from his mouth, "That attack… if only I could have dodged it."

"Guess you couldn't fly in that hold," Piccolo pointed out drily. Bulma managed a grin at the stunned and furious look coming over Raditz's face at that. He let out a strange gurgling roar of rage, struggling as if trying to stand one last time.

'Writhe, big man,' Bulma thought, turning her attention to Goku and her grin falling away. Gohan was beside him, and Krillin had gotten there at some point. She gently, mostly, shoved Krillin aside, though he kept ahold of Goku's hand.

"Bulma, you okay?" Goku asked.

"Of course, saving me's what you do. Here's Boxer too," She said, scooping her son into her side as he ran over, "This time he got to be part of the story."

"Goku, just try the senzu bean, maybe it will work after all," Krillin insisted.

"Heh, it's okay," Goku said, eyes drifting close. And so Son Goku died on the battlefield, Bulma realized. She felt like a teenager again, standing in the deserted tournament arena, pleading with an absent Goku to return and wishing she had not given him the radar to chase after Krillin's murderer.

A feeling of helplessness; it made something slosh and boil in her guts now as it didn't then.

The boys were crying, she realized.

"Hey, it's okay!" Bulma said around her tears.

"Daddy!"

"Goku!"

"Dragon Balls!" Bulma snapped, reaching over to grab Gohan's shoulder.

"Krillin died once too, but the Dragon Balls, they can bring people back! We just have to gather them, and we can wish for whatever we want. And that includes Goku back!" Bulma shouted.

Raditz wasn't dead, she realized in the silence. Growling, Bulma shot to her feet and walked over to the dying Saiyan in broken, leaking armor. Looking down on him, she stomped her foot on the edge of the hole drilled in his torso.

"GAH!" he cried out, spitting up more blood.

"Did you hear that, jerk?! You didn't achieve anything here. We will wish Goku back, and you'll stay dead. You'll be nothing but just another villain the hero Goku overcame and then he moved on from. You died for nothing!" Bulma shrieked.

"Hehehhahaha! Oh? Have a… listen…" Raditz coughed, eyes growing dim as he managed to press a button on the head piece he was wearing. The he fell limp, his chest rising no more as his eyes glazed.

"Raditz? Hello? Scrub says what? Huh, looks like he actually did die, Vegeta. Hey, we're on speaker. I hate when people put you on speaker without saying so.

"Well, anyway. Earthlings! That was real interesting; Raditz turned on the scouter, so we heard that fight there. You people sure talk a lot when you fight. Who'd have thought there'd be a Namekian out there. Cross the good parts of the galaxy just to squat in another boonies, guess they know what they like.

"Anyway, wishes you say? That's something. Me and Vegeta would like to get some of that, oh yes. And we should be right there, in about a year. And if you think bringing Kakarot back will save you, it's not just that there are two of us, we are both lots stronger than Raditz. So you might want to make good use of that year before we get there. And if the female Saiyan is there, name's Nappa. How about we get to repopulating the Saiyan race, you and I?"

"Dammit, Nappa, just hang up, they get it."

"You're right, Vegeta, a proposal should be done in person. I'm rusty, after all this time. Well, see you then and slay you then, depending on your species. Bye!"

"…Well shit," Roshi said, as the voice cut off to a staticy tone.

_Somewhere in the Universe:_

"Well, how about that, Vegeta? Who would have thought a scrub weaker than a Saibaman would stumble on a motherlode?" A giant of a Saiyan with a shaved head and long mustache said. A short Saiyan with long upraised spiky dark hair smirked as they both sat on alien carcasses, eating charred remains.

"Well, I always thought he'd die before proving more than barely adequate. Looks like he got one in under the mark, Nappa," Vegeta said, tearing a bit of meat from the carapace with his teeth.

"Yeah, a real Saiyan female. Oh boy, that alone would be worth a trip out to the space boonies," Nappa cheered.

"Goddamnit, Nappa, she went down to Raditz. Clearly a defective scrub of a warrior."

"It's not that kind of a match I'm looking for, Vegeta. It's been a loooong time since this general was able to give some of his favorite marching orders," Nappa grinned.

"Spare me your tales of so-called conquests, Nappa. It's the wish I'm interested in. Let's move out," Vegeta said, tossing aside the appendage and stepping down off the pile.

"Yeah, time for a booty call!" Nappa smirked, following Vegeta to the space pods.

**X X X**

"So then, to be clear. Two more Saiyans, stronger than that one, in a year?" Piccolo said. They were all too exhausted to be surprised at the villain's sudden closeness.

"Looks like," Krillin said.

"Right then," Piccolo said.

SCHLUNK

With a wet ripping sound, a new arm burst out of Piccolo's stump and, moving lightning quick, he grabbed up Bulma and the two boys in his arms.

"I'll be taking Goku's woman sons for training and hostage. Leave me to it and I'll leave you to train in peace. And we come back to face the aliens with everything we have. That's the deal, obey it or don't," Piccolo declared.

Before Roshi or Krillin could answer, the demon prince had blasted off into the air.

"That, that just happen?" Krillin asked, both of them looking at the spot Piccolo disappeared to over the horizon.

"Yep. I'm not telling Chichi," Roshi declared. Krillin moaned, feeling like he could really use a very tall, very stiff drink right about now.

* * *

**Author's Note::**

_Yeah, I have long felt Abridged remained truer to the humor of the original series than Z canon; so I took some inspiration from them for this story. Though I don't plan on being so extreme, and drawing inspiration rather than outright borrowing._

_And now things are really taking off!_

_Please don't expect me to keep up this pace of updates, this is really unusual for me. But I hope you enjoy this streak while it lasts._

_Long days and pleasant nights to you all._


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own DBZ.

Betaed by: Zim'smostloyalservant, Trackula and Phillip.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

_Training Arc!_

(Part 1)

This time, Bulma didn't resist being carried off. She just held Boxer close and tried not to think.

It was just too much — Saiyans, Goku an alien. Some barbarian trying to carry her off for "fun" like those Red Ribbon goons so long ago. Taking her son, and Gohan who reminded her of Goku so much at a glance. Even Gohan's existence.

And now there were more, even stronger, Saiyans coming. How was that fair? Raditz came from nowhere and nothing to destroy the peace and everything to defeat him was now up in the air in less than five minutes.

And Goku was dead, that thought intruded like a gash, making her squeeze her son tighter to her chest.

When she had thought Jackie Chun had killed Goku, it was more shock and anger than anything. And when he ran off after Krillin's killer and didn't come back, she had pleaded with the night for him to come back, feeling certain she had killed him by giving him the radar. This was worse; she'd watched his life slip away like anyone else's. Helpless, weak, like all her smarts and money meant nothing.

Useless. She couldn't even object properly when Piccolo had declared he was kidnapping Goku's woman and sons. It was just too much.

**X X X**

Piccolo was deep in what he regarded as his territory. Good land, but deserted. His training ground where he had prepared for the day he would fulfill his destiny. Which he supposed he had — Son Goku was dead by his hand, and with him gone, returning the reign of evil to this world, as his father had wished of him, would be simple. But fact was, his killing of Goku felt like a technicality, new obstacles were looming, and he felt rather unfulfilled by the whole achievement.

Well, first order of business was to break these kids in so as get started.

Landing near a shallow lake, he tossed the brat with straight hair into the water while dropping the big-haired woman and spiky-haired brat on the ground. That did the job; the one sputtered in the water, and the other came too in his mother's arms, both of them growling.

"Good, everyone's paying attention. I don't want to repeat myself, so listen up. I hate to say this, but in case you missed it, Goku's dead. Oh wait, I don't hate to say that. It's great to say that, Goku's dead! HAHAHA!" Piccolo laughed.

"Jerk," the woman growled.

"Probably, but with him gone I'm the strongest in the world. So what I say goes. Unfortunately, the world champion title doesn't mean as much when aliens are dropping in. And in case you missed that, two more of those Saiyans are on their way. And they're stronger than Raditz was. Much as it pains me to admit it, I couldn't have beaten Raditz without Goku's help. So while I was in flight, Kami and I had a little mind-to-mind talk to clarify a few things. Even though there's no one to stop me, I will hold off on any rampage or conquests until this Saiyan business is resolved. In exchange, Goku's friends are to leave me alone, including no trying to rescue you all. This way, we can all focus on what's important, to survive what's coming. You're Goku's sons, and I saw some potential on that battlefield. And I will be needing that," he said. Then he turned his attention to Bulma, making Boxer hiss in her arms, "And you, aside from the fun of kidnapping Goku's woman, you'll be insurance against these two trying to escape. Hear that, brats? Try running, and your mother will suffer."

"She's not my mom!" the soaking brat whined, getting onto the shore.

"Would you be upset if I ripped her ears off?" Piccolo asked with a glare. The overdressed boy started crying, "Well, close enough then. So, we have about a year then for you two to shape up into proper soldiers of the Demon Clan. Best get started."

With that, he picked up Gohan and threw him at a rock formation. The boy impacted head first, cracking the brown rock then dropped down like a sack on the ground.

"Huh, that was less impressive than I hoped," Piccolo remarked, touching his chin.

"Haha!" Boxer laughed.

"How's that even training?!" the woman demanded.

**X X X**

It had taken some doing, but Bulma had convinced Piccolo to have Boxer punch his palm to test strength rather than toss him into a mountain. And him punching Boxer in the gut.

Sue her, she thought, she had no leverage on the villain. As it was, when both boys were recovered, Piccolo was looking them over with Bulma behind them, with hands on their shoulders.

It seemed Piccolo did have some idea what he was doing after all, Bulma thought.

"Okay, now you two spar, don't hold back. Show me what I have to work with," Piccolo ordered.

"What's sparring?" Ghana asked, while Boxer grinned. Boxer's grin was replaced by a frown at the question. Sighing, Bulma ruffled Gohan's hair before stepping up to the green bald demon.

"Piccolo, a moment please?" she asked, motioning for him to step aside with her. Thankfully he complied, though not looking thrilled.

"What is it now?" he demanded as they moved off to the side.

"Gohan hasn't been trained, he's not a fighter. A spar won't do anything, other than my Boxer beating him up."

"No training? I saw him rip out of that space ship and put Raditz on the ropes for a bit. The other one couldn't even break out."

"What?" Bulma asked, stunned. She looked to Gohan, the image of misery standing by Boxer, who was just looking around at the scenery. Though she supposed that story explained a few things.

"Well, whatever you saw, Goku was very clear he hasn't trained Gohan. In fact, I was going to ask him to start training Boxer because I can't do anything more for him," Bulma told him.

"Hmm, whatever. I'm still going to have them fight to see what will happen."

_Two Minutes Later:_

What happened was Boxer decking Gohan while the other stood there confused.

"Is he broken?" Boxer asked the adults. Gohan started to cry again.

"Well, this may be a bit harder than I thought," Piccolo admitted.

"Told ya," Bulma chimed, stepping over to Gohan, who glomped her when she squatted down. Boxer frowned at that, but then Piccolo spoke up.

"Okay then, basics for the both of you," Piccolo announced.

"What? Like a punching bag?" Bulma asked.

"Survival training. The both of you alone against nature. Seeing you in that will let me see how far you can go and what to do with you."

"…They're not even five," Bulma stated.

"Not a problem. I'll be watching to see if they die, as will you, I suppose. You can fly right?"

Bulma squared her shoulders and gave him a look, gesturing with her head to talk a ways off.

It was true Piccolo was so strong she had no leverage. But she was stubborn and had been trained to run a corporation that was beyond major. Sure enough, bandied words brought a concession.

**X X X**

Boxer watched his mom talk with Piccolo, hands balled into fists.

He'd dreamed of being on an adventure for as long as he could remember. But he hadn't been able to do anything when faced with a real bad guy!

His eyes slid to Gohan, who looked like he was going to cry again. Boxer had barely woken up in time to see the other boy break out of the pod; he hadn't seen the attack, but he'd heard it!

It didn't make any sense. First he was a wimp like the other kids, despite being Goku's son, then he was awesome. Now he was a wimp again? Boxer growled under his breath. The other boy didn't make any sense.

And the crying! When Krillin was killed, Goku hadn't sat around crying, he'd flown off seeking vengeance. What did this other kid think crying did, anyway?

"Boys! Listen up," his mom said, walking back, arms raised.

Piccolo walked up next to her, wearing that same expression he seemed fond of.

"You two are going to train. But it seems I need to start with the basics, so basic is what we will do. Staying alive. You will still be stranded out there, alone every day, this woman agrees," Piccolo said, gesturing to the wilderness, smiling at their surprise, "It will be up to you to survive what is thrown at you and find food to live. Your only concession, will be that I will give a few hours of safe sleep at night here with me and the woman. That is all, just the rest so you can be ready to take on the world. And if I decide your progress is unacceptable, I will revoke that too. You saw Raditz's power. Worse is coming. If you can't survive the Earth, you won't be able to take on something that can end it."

Boxer was awed, looking out at the wilderness. He'd been promised a teacher by his mom. But he had not expected this. Was this it then, the start of his own story?

Gohan started to cry.

"I don't know how to do that!" he protested. Boxer just stepped away from him, then cocked his head when his mom went past him to Gohan.

"Gohan, calm down," she demanded calmly but firmly. It actually worked, to Boxer's surprise. With a hand on Gohan's head, she turned to Piccolo.

"You can't just throw him out there knowing nothing. There must be something else," the bluenette demanded of the demon prince.

_Shortly:_

Their eyes bugged as Piccolo tossed the short gladius sword down in front of Gohan.

"There, a big knife, one of the most basic tools and weapons. Good for making stuff, and killing stuff, and other stuff. And the absolutely last concession I am going to make. I suppose you want one too," Piccolo demanded, glaring at Boxer. With attention back on him, Boxer drew himself up, tail swinging, and clenched his fists.

"No way! I don't need it like he does. I'm tough!" Boxer said, punching his own palm and nodding.

"…Sweetie," his mother said nervously.

"Well, alright then. I admit I am kind of looking forward to seeing how much you might regret that choice, boy. So then, let's get to it. I'm sure you've heard of the Turtle and Crane Schools. Tenshinhan, Goku, Krillin, and that pale kid thing. Well, welcome to the Piccolo School. Whatever you heard about them and the results they get, this will be much worse, and much better, respectively. LET THE TRAINING BEGIN!" Piccolo roared to his audience of three.

"Uh, what am I supposed to do while they're doing that?" Bulma asked, raising her hand.

_Later, Mount Paozu:_

"WHAT?!" Chichi screamed at Krillin, flipping the table to the side. Krillin couldn't even make a noise as the woman in purple and orange emitted rage, shoulders moving up and down with her breaths.

"Now sweetie," Ox King said, sweating. She silenced him with a glare.

"Krillin," she hissed. The shaved martial artist was hoping his death would be quick. He'd been dead before, and it wasn't supposed to be so bad if it wasn't a demon killing you, right?

"So, not only is my husband dead, but my son has been kidnapped by Piccolo. And on top of that, he's with that slut and her bastard!?" Chichi demanded, stomping over to Krillin.

"Now I know it sounds… okay, it's nuts. But with Goku dead, no one can take down Piccolo. But we know he won't hurt him! He's planning to train both boys to fight the Saiyans. If they're anything like Goku, maybe he'll bite off more than he can chew and we'll get rid of Piccolo and the Saiyans?" Krillin offered, trying not to stutter.

"…Not good enough," she said, stomping past him, aura focusing.

"Sweetie, where are you going?!" Ox King called. Chichi flung open a closet, which was revealed to be full of guns.

"To get my son back. If none of you mighty warriors have the spine for it, I'll just do it myself," she snapped, storming out with an armful of firepower.

"Bad idea! You couldn't come close to beating Goku, and Piccolo is on his level! You'll die! He might decide we all broke this truce and come to kill us all!" Krillin objected. She ignored him, getting into her car and driving away. Ox King joined Krillin, looking out the doorway.

"Why didn't you stop her?" Krillin asked.

"Why didn't you?" The king sadly retorted.

"Well, it's not a problem as long as she can't find Piccolo, right?" Krillin pleaded.

"She will," Ox King answered.

"I know," Krillin whined.

_An Unspecified Timeskip Later!:_

"So, your boy, is a bit of a fearless fool," Piccolo said as they sat around the fire, the boys sleeping dead to the world. Nearby laid the bones of the small dinosaur she and Piccolo had eaten, mostly her. Though Boxer had tried to gnaw the bones again only to get whacked for his trouble. Bulma had gathered wood for the fire as had become the routine, but as her cooking had offended Piccolo and the boys, she was not exactly being domestic.

She'd been reduced to using her knowledge to gather medicinal herbs and such to treat the boys' wounds when Piccolo brought them back here. Between that and firewood, it was mostly just being bored, so her mind had gotten to this, thinking about what Piccolo reported in the training to discuss it with him.

"I prefer confident and enthusiastic."

"A fool by any other name will still get killed by being foolish. He might be tackling problems head on better than Gohan, but he's making it needlessly hard and dangerous by only taking the direct route. Against an opponent of superior skill, power, or cunning, he's going to get stomped into the dirt at this rate."

"Maybe try telling him that instead of letting nature have its way with him," Bulma grumbled, looking to her son. Piccolo ignored her.

"Gohan has another problem, though. He thinks too much. He gets caught up in thinking about how dangerous something is instead of jumping to finding a solution. And he can just plain not see the mountain for the rocks sometimes," Piccolo grumbled.

"Yeah, I heard you from here yelling for him to just climb down," Bulma agreed.

"Yeah, the other one had him beat there, even if it was quicker than he wanted for the last stretch."

"And Boxer has never asked for his own blade," Bulma pointed out.

"That might be more foolishness. But yeah, he's not backpedaling, at least."

"Now Gohan's move with that dinosaur you described, that was impressive. You should…" the two continued their latest conference at the lonely fire in the wasteland.

_Days Later:_

Bulma was not in her field, but she knew better than to gainsay a superior expert in theirs.

The boys were different, as the training continued to point out. Gohan was a thinker even in his strength, tricking a dino into knocking itself out on the rocks being only one example. While Boxer, faced with an enemy he couldn't defeat himself, he avoided, or evaded reluctantly so as to come back later, when he was strong enough to beat it with his own strength. But Boxer's headstrong approach had its edge too — Gohan had spent most of a night trying to figure out a clever way down from a ledge, while Boxer just took the simple option of climbing down.

A part of her was a tad envious of Chichi; Gohan seemed to have inherited the other woman's intelligence along with Goku's potential, while Boxer had Goku's drive and boldness, but had passed on Bulma's intellect. It was an odd thing to cheer for brawn over brain, but her son was the one she preferred to see shine, she was not ashamed to admit.

Not that she'd say it aloud. No, Gohan was still a kid and had not only lost his father but was separated from his mother. Bulma couldn't do much more than offer a few stories and some patch jobs around the fire to him, but she wasn't just going to let a kid suffer needlessly.

"Sure you're not his mother?" Piccolo asked, as she checked on Gohan before joining him. Now that they were both the only ones awake, it was time for another talk.

"It's just a bit of decency. Besides, it's not like you give me anything to do," Bulma remarked stroking Gohan's hair a final time before turning to face him.

"You want to jump in on the training, feel free," Piccolo smirked.

"No thank you. Keeping in shape is one thing, but I have no desire to get so muscly I can punch out a mountain."

"With that attitude, no wonder I could do what I wanted with you and them once Goku was dead," Piccolo remarked. Bulma scowled, but it faded as he glanced to where Gohan was sleeping by the fire. It wasn't much, but it wasn't the first time. Piccolo himself probably didn't even notice, she thought.

Bulma nodded to herself and stood up.

"Piccolo, we need to talk," Bulma said.

"We already are," he pointed out, irritated again.

"In private. There," she said, picking out a nearby plateau. Piccolo looked toward it, narrowing his eyes slightly, then grinned in a way she did not like.

"Alright then, adult talk," he said, grabbing her from around her back and holding her close as he rose into the air.

At first it had been a flustering thing, but she was certain he was either a great actor or had yet to appreciate the feeling of a woman pressed front against him. For his part, he was chiseled through that tunic, and even his weird arm muscles had a certain textured smoothness.

In a second, they were atop the plateau, and Piccolo let her down from high enough to make her stumble. He didn't land, looking down on her as Bulma brushed herself off. Her outfit was getting dirty; she'd have to settle for washing it in streams and lakes, just like bathing had been water only. She was certain the only reason the boys weren't stinking more to her was her own odor interfering.

"So, what have you got to say?" Piccolo asked, crossing his arms imperiously.

It should be intimidating, being face-to-face with someone who could kill you as easily as opening a door, especially when they were on the record as having ambitions that went up to mass murder. But there was a challenge in those eyes, and unlike her teen self adventuring with Goku, she found she wanted to meet it. So she put her hands on her hips and gave her own confident glare right back. She had not let him just push her around all this time. But she had not really struggled or pushed back more than he was readily willing to accommodate.

'I'm not some damsel, Piccolo. But I am a princess with everything but the crown and title, we're both royalty,' she thought.

"You intend to be king, right? Follow in your father's footsteps and make the world yours?" she demanded.

"Of course. I've laid low, growing stronger, because until Goku was gone there was no point reaching for the prize," Piccolo answered.

"And as long as Goku was out there, we thought we could just carry on. I think we all would have preferred him to kill you back at the tournament, but it was his call. Goku even turned down Kami's throne without hesitation when he accepts marriage to a stranger easily. I love Goku, but I think it was a mistake letting him be the only one to decide things."

"Is there a point to this?" Piccolo demanded.

"Fine. I am considering helping you become king of Earth," Bulma admitted.

"…What?" Piccolo said, actually setting his feet down on the ground.

"You're confused. Understandable. Before all… this," she gestured to the world around them with her hands, "I wouldn't have considered this at all. But Raditz changed everything."

"Goku will be wished back with the Dragon Balls," Piccolo pointed out.

"And we only have a year to wish him back with because you and he barely beat Raditz. And now two more Saiyans stronger than Raditz are coming. And who knows what other threat could crash down at any time?" Bulma said, looking up to the stars, brow furrowed.

"You see, Piccolo, I think you and I are both seeing the big picture here. You can't make an army like your father could, but alone you would have been killed by Raditz. So if you want help, you'll need to recruit warriors. And how many? Well, the number of potential threats when space is on the table means you can't know how much is enough. We thought you were the worst threat we would have to deal with, Piccolo. And Goku beat you, and Goku would never slacked off, getting stronger. But now even with Goku back, the highest bar is unknown.

"Same for you, right? When you were born, you had two things to fear — the Mafu Ba and Goku. You defeated the Mafu Ba, and with Goku it was close enough you thought in time you'd overcome him too. But now? Even if you conquer the world and wreck it like your dad, you could be just a bug in a big universe and get swatted the moment a great destroyer notices you.

"You want to rule the Earth, I want the Earth to thrive. So, our goals aren't contradictory."

"You seem to forget my father was Demon King Piccolo, you got a glimpse of his intentions as king."

"Sure did. But I don't think you are your father. You can be better than him, as more than a superior warrior. A tyrant can never truly be secure on his throne. Either he lacks competent minions, making his realm suffer and be unable to meet his needs, or he has capable people he must then fear plotting against him. And of course, you set yourself up for the next would-be tyrant. Or the next Goku or Mutataito to come along. And the people will either sit back and watch you fall, or cheer.

"King Furry is a good king, not great, but good. As such, he could rely on people like Goku to not bother him and possibly come to his aid. You could do much better with that. Besides, what would needless destruction and tyranny get you? You're not a sadist, and if you were very into greed, you'd probably be sulking in a castle with plundered loot and slave girls instead of spending all these years camping.

"As for why I think you would be a good king… Fact is, the royal government since the Uniter, Furry the First, has never really ruled the whole Earth. As it currently stands, the government effectively rules something like 60% of the world. Another ten to fifteen is ruled essentially by privateer warlords and such that work with the government. The rest? Lost Ground, people in high places call it. Pockets of territory with either powerful figures there the government isn't willing to mess with or de facto states outside the government's control. And of course, stretches of land they just don't have the resources and personnel to effectively administer. And that's after nearly thirty years of King Furry III, one of the most competent and actually-care-about-his-people kings of the world dynasty.

"The Red Ribbon Army rose to power, conquering nearly 20% of the world, filling in those blank spots and crushing privateers. Before Goku came along, the Royal Earth Army was unwilling to fight them, afraid one defeat would allow them to invade the 'real kingdom'.

"And do you know what happened after the Red Ribbon fell? Or your father's rampage? Nothing. The system is mostly content, holding what it sees as the best parts of the world and leaving the rest to whatever thug can run it so long as they don't threaten the big boys' interests. My family is in the know, being the richest — heck, we have profited on it, making tech that uses less resources so there's even less reason to try and expand civilization beyond its borders. But that can't go on. The Earth and its people need to do better and be stronger, not just be content in this mediocrity lapping up whatever fun new tech comes out of the lab. It needs a king who will rule by pursuing goals for the sake of his kingdom, viciously if needed to get results. Who won't be afraid to set standards that will force people to do better and not care and not be moved when they push back because his vision requires them to sacrifice degrees of comfort and wealth," Bulma explained.

"A tyrant?" Piccolo suggested.

"Better a tyrant who history will condemn than a beloved king who leads his people to extinction and will never be condemned because, well, extinction. And besides, do it smart, and you'll have more allies than enemies. Pick your targets, ones the people won't care about or will be glad to see fall. Use some charisma, get people caught up in a speech or something in a bold vision for a stronger, better world. And with the help of the richest family and its connections… Might even be a good idea to keep King Furry as chancellor or something. Probably a lot of paperwork you'd rather leave to him."

"You're assuming I'd agree to this kind of kingship," Piccolo pointed out.

"Well, there would be other perks," Bulma said, stepping up to him, and running the back of her hand down his thigh. She gave him a wink.

"A king needs a queen, after all," she whispered.

"…KAHAHAHAHAHA!" Piccolo roared in laughter, throwing his head back.

Bulma drew back as Piccolo laughed out loud. After a moment, he collected himself and and stepped over to her and grabbed her wrist. Bulma tugged reflexively, it did not move him even slightly. It may as well be locked in a brace, bolted into a wall.

"So, was all that just to try and control me by seducing me?" he asked, still seeming amused.

"Well, nothing I said wasn't true. But why not mix business with pleasure, after all?" Bulma asked, giving him an assured smile. He returned it, and put her hand against his crotch.

"EEEP!" Bulma squeaked. A big strong man was making her feel him up. She'd long awaited this day, but now that it was here-

'Wait a sec,' she thought, noticing something off.

Piccolo's grin slowly slipped as Bulma's hand kept patting around the spot, a look of franticness forming on her face as the search dragged on.

"That's enough!" he decided, forcing her back and letting go of her hand.

"Your stuff retracts? That's not fair!" Bulma shrieked.

"It doesn't retract, it's nonexistent!" Piccolo yelled.

Bulma felt like she was standing in a void and someone dropped a pin.

"Bwuughuh?" she stammered.

"Normally demons reproduce asexually, there's no need for that nonsense you're after. The only reason I can't is that when my father made my egg, he strived to make a more powerful version of himself. That included sacrificing the ability to reproduce, but I am still a demon."

"That's so very not fair at all," Bulma groaned, head tilting like the world was to her.

"Maybe there's something to what you're saying, but don't think you can just funnel me too- Oh, seems we have company. Might be best to finish this talk later," Piccolo said.

"Huh?" Bulma remarked, as Piccolo turned his attention to a wooded section of the plateau.

He moved nearly in a blur, plunging into the trees. Bulma blinked as someone fired off a machine gun, screamed in fury, and then a twisted machine gun flew out to land at Bulma's feet.

"What?" she said.

Then a woman wearing foliage, including grass tied to her head with a band, landed next to the gun. Gritting her teeth in pain, the woman opened her dark eyes and met Bulma's.

It had been years, but Bulma's memory matched the dark-haired woman to a name quick enough with that glare.

"Chichi?" Bulma asked, stunned.

"Traitor, I knew you were a slut, but you really are shameless, aren't you?" Chichi growled, getting to her feet.

"What? What are you even doing-" Bulma stammered. She was cut off when Chichi's fist stopped short of her face. Piccolo was there beside them, his clawed hand closed around the angry housewife's forearm.

"No, whatever her worth might be, she's under my protection and authority now. So no one gets to harm her without my permission," Piccolo said. With ease that Bulma had grown used to, he tossed the grown woman into the air.

They both watched as Chichi, even with her camo coming off, twisted in the air and landed on her feet. As she fell into a stance, Piccolo smiled.

"Oh, are you Goku's other mate then?" Piccolo asked.

"I'm his wife!" Chichi shouted.

"Hmm, yes, you have a similar style to Goku and the other Turtle students. Though yours is unrefined, and now rusty besides. That old man would probably weep to see it so degraded against an opponent like me," Piccolo chuckled.

Bulma saw the blow coming a mile away, so she was a bit surprised when Piccolo let her kick him in the neck with an audible crack.

Then he didn't budge, and Chichi's enraged look broke for a hiss of pain as she had to practically hop back a few paces. Piccolo brushed off his neck, smirking as Chichi tried to form a stance without putting weight on a leg or foot that had broken something.

"Okay, I gave you a shot, deciding to ignore that pathetic effort in the bush. You've got courage, I will give you that. But it's my turn now," Piccolo declared.

He pulled back his fist, and thrust it out. The air rushed, and with eyes widening, Chichi was sent flying. Her cry was cut off as she collided with an unmoving barrier. It was Piccolo, one arm wrapped around the stunned woman in a semi bear hug.

"Same move Goku beat you with, right? Pathetic. A warrior should learn from defeat, otherwise courage only leads to repeating the same mistake until it destroys you."

"Wait, don't kill her!" Bulma spoke up finally. That drew both fighters' attention to the bluenentte.

"Oh don't try and act friendly now!" Chichi shouted, able to point an accusing finger, "First you seduce my husband. Then you have a bastard, and now you conspire with the monster who killed my Goku to take away my Gohan and take over the world!"

"I did not seduce your husband! He wasn't married yet!"

"We'd been engaged for years!"

"He didn't even know! What kind of perverted little girl asks another kid to marry them seriously!"

"I'm not the pervert, you are!"

"Yes I am! But you're a bi-"

"ENOUGH! I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR BED POLITICS!" Piccolo roared.

That shut them up.

"You," he said, pointing to Bulma, "Stay here, I'll be back."

Just like that, he flew into the air, with Bulma only able to watch as he went to the next plateau over with Chichi.

**X X X**

Piccolo let the black-haired woman go when their feet were on the ground again, not that she didn't stumble a bit from a broken foot. He had no time to pity a wound born of foolishness.

"So, I am going to first of all guess the other warriors told you I took Gohan, and about the deal. This truce," the last son of the Demon King said.

"Yes!" She snapped, "They might be willing to let you hold my baby prisoner for a year, but I'm not."

"Baby? He's well past that stage, unless I mixed up what that word means," Piccolo remarked stoically.

"You killed my husband, I won't let you have my son," Chichi growled.

"For starters, I admit even I am having trouble taking Goku's death as my victory. He made a sacrifice move in the end, his death a trade for Raditz's death. All those years waiting for a rematch, and that alien drops out of the sky to force us to work together. Tch, it's like a bad comedy, but Goku wouldn't even realize the joke was at his expense, so I'm the only one to feel the sting," Piccolo mused.

"Oh cry me a river, murder wasn't as therapeutic as you hoped," Chichi drawled.

"You know, insulting someone you literally broke yourself hitting isn't really a good path to success," he pointed out.

Chichi fumed, but taking a breath she sat down on a roundish rock. Piccolo nodded; it seemed they were getting somewhere.

"Give me back my son."

'Or not,' he thought. But she went on.

"You want a son of Goku to corrupt, take Bulma's — with her as a mother, he's probably already on his way to being a punk. My Gohan is gentle and smart, he's not destined to be a brute of a warrior who has to use violence to prosper, he's going to be a respected scholar, someone people will look up to and earn his way to greatness…"

"No," Piccolo said.

"Huh?" Chichi said, pulled from her growing fantasy of Gohan's bright future.

"The answer is no, I won't return him. I gain nothing by giving him back, while he has potential, including that mind of his. There's no reason to let him go, and no consequence for keeping him. Make a scene if you want, I can knock you out or just kill you, leaving not a drop of blood."

"…Please," Chichi begged, looking up at him with wet eyes, "I've lost Goku, and even if he is wished back it will be for a battle that may take him away just as quickly."

"…What would you do?" Piccolo demanded. Chichi blinked.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been asking things of me. But you have no power to force anything from me, and your words aren't going to move me. So, if you want a favor from the mighty Piccolo, perhaps you should ask what you can offer him to grant your desire," he said solemnly.

"…What do you want?" Chichi finally asked.

"Now we're getting somewhere. My first priority is to stop the Saiyans. For that, I need to grow stronger and have strong allies. So, I suppose that is it!" he grinned.

"What is?" Chichi asked.

"Become a strong ally. Train, grow strong, how exactly I leave to you. To be specific, I'll make it real clear. If we both survive the Saiyans, if you can beat me in a duel, I will let you have your Gohan back. I'll even swear on my honor as a warrior, even if my feud with Goku continues, I will not drag you and him into it again. Yes, I like this idea. You have passion and courage, but it seems you've neglected the power needed for those things to matter when facing those who can't care less what you want. Get out of here, and next time you throw a punch at me let it be when you have what it takes to actually seize what you desire instead of throwing a tantrum," Piccolo said chuckling a bit.

"…You really are a demon. Upending people's lives just because you can," Chichi seethed. He gave her an unimpressed look at those words.

"No, it's just as simple as you needing to be strong enough to protect what you cherish, or take it back when someone takes it from you. Demon has nothing to do with it. Don't disturb us again. Gohan has a soft heart; even if he knew I'd killed you, I could just threaten strangers and get the same result of obedience. But I'd rather not."

Then he left her alone in the night.

**X X X**

Bulma had been angry when Piccolo carried off Chichi; she was going to win that argument!

Pacing on the rocky soil, the heiress had muttered curses toward the other woman. How dare she?! Yes, Bulma had tried to seduce Goku, even knowing he was about to be married. But she'd been drunk, and Chichi had gotten Goku regardless.

She hoped the woman was more polite with Goku than that. He deserved better than being yelled at when coming through the door. Bulma had only ever yelled at him when he deserved it, or something had her upset, or she was hungry… The point was, she would have been a better match for Goku, but Bulma accepted that race was over and Chichi had won. The other woman should be appreciating that fact rather than bringing up Bulma's past.

And if that woman insulted her Boxer again, Bulma would rip out one of Chichi's eyes!

But getting angry over that was too counterproductive. Besides, Piccolo came back and said he had sent Chichi away with a challenge. Bulma smiled at that; she wished she could see the ox princess denied something. But he didn't offer details, just saying he would think over her offer and grabbed her close to carry back to the camp.

Again the closeness, Bulma thought. She had an arm free, so she did feel the side of his torso some, all muscle, weird but fine. He didn't object, but no blush or anything that she could see by the light of a nearly full moon.

Ugh, he was telling the truth, Bulma thought, feeling nauseous.

"Where did you go?" Gohan asked, sitting up at his spot. Boxer was still asleep by the fire.

"Adult talk," Bulma said, before Piccolo could say anything.

"Okay," Gohan said, laying back down, yawning. Bulma sat by him, watching until his breathing settled into sleeping, and then checked on Boxer.

Piccolo was seated back to them, looking out over the wasteland. Could he see Chichi leaving? Bulma was not sure how much he slept. But she settled down to her own spot. She had gotten tougher with age, she noted with satisfaction. She remembered how as a beautiful teenager, she had nearly broken down doing without her precious capsules. Now here she was, sleeping on the hard ground for night after night with no soap, no deodorant, and the same clothes.

She growled, glaring at Piccolo for this treatment. And yet, she found herself intrigued.

With Goku off the market — she would not consider the widower option, that way laid murder and she wasn't her grandma — Piccolo was the next worthy man. And yes, even without the interesting parts he still counted, her woman senses declared him man and they trumped all science and most magic in such things. She said so herself.

How dare he dismiss her sexiness so casually?! She was Bulma Briefs; had she not once wagered her life trying to win the heart of a hot but seemingly homosexual villain? Had she not taught Goku what a girl was?

A fire had ignited in her chest, a roaring that reminded her of when she set out to pursue the Dragon Balls in the name of love, or strawberries. But stronger, bigger, and mightier.

She was sexy, but she needed to be more inspiring still! She needed to climb to the pinnacle of womanhood that makes men forget what they're doing and take notice.

In her mind, Bulma cackled, watching Piccolo's back.

"Just you wait, Piccolo. My sexiness will be such that one day even you will find yourself stealing lingering looks at my body. Forgetting what I was saying, looking into my eyes. It will be beyond the impossible, breaking the limits, and I will prevail. BWAHHAHAHAHA!" Bulma's imaginary self cackled as thunder boomed and volcanos erupted around her under a red ominous sky. In real life, she gave perverted giggles as she faded to sleep.

At the sound, Piccolo felt a chill go up his spine. Which, seeing as he didn't have a spine, was quite concerning.

But looking over his shoulder, he saw no great looming force of evil, just the two boys and the woman goggling herself to sleep while kicking at nothing with one leg.

'Maybe I do need more sleep?' he wondered, trying to shake the lingering chill from his body.

_Later:_

"So you want to train, eh?" Roshi said, sipping his beer as he sat on his porch. Chichi stood on his island, looking as unhappy as ever.

"Want to? Not so much as need to. I went to my father, but he insisted you were a better teacher," Chichi answered.

"Well, that is true. Your performance at the Tenkaichi Budokai did not disgrace the Turtle school, but it was clear for the years you'd been studying you weren't getting nearly the best out of it you could. Hmm, correcting flaws will make it harder than a fresh student, but-"

"I didn't come here to ask to be your student," Chichi interrupted.

"Eh?"

"Take me to Korrin Tower. I need to get strong quicker than you can do it."

"No, that would be foolish," Roshi said, shaking his head, "Even after completing his training under me, Goku had difficulty ascending the Tower. You stopped your training short of breaking the barrier of humanity, and that distance has grown with neglect. Besides, the Tower itself is only the first and least obstacle to the power you seek there. It's not a shortcut to power; to seize the prize you must first have what it takes to get there."

Chichi huffed.

"Well, if you won't help me, I'll get it from the Crane School."

"Uh, Tien?" Roshi asked, sweating a bit.

"No, Tsuru," Chichi answered sternly.

"What!? He's evil! Blast it woman, you'd be playing into his hands. He thrives on taking people like you, seeking justice in despair, and corrupting them!"

"And you think like Krillin, then? That I should just sit by and let my son be twisted by his father's killer?" Chichi demanded.

"I am no fan of Piccolo, but Goku sacrificed his life; to call it Piccolo killing him slanders Goku's sacrifice. And if we are going to survive what's coming, we need all the allies we can get, and that includes the son of the Demon King, who has already shown he understands the stakes.

"Yes, it may be better for you to stand by the wayside; you turned your back on the warrior's way of your own accord. I can respect that choice, but it has its consequences. But a good teacher doesn't refuse a student willing to learn, and you wouldn't be the first to change your path for those you love.

"But Chichi, Tsuru will seek to twist you into the kind of woman Gohan would need to be rescued from. It's what he does — he makes students into monsters or breaks them. Whatever power you gain from him is like a potion of strength from a poisoned cup. You'll take what you seek with it, but lose what you need."

…

"I know words alone won't dissuade you. Your father was much the same in his youth. I have a bargain for you," Roshi said, stroking his beard, looking the part of the wise elder for once.

_Later_:

Chichi resolved to never ride a Baby Gamera ever again as she returned from the brush where she had emptied her stomach. A noble-looking young man wearing loose trousers and a feather in his dark hair offered her a cup of water. Chichi thanked him with a bow and pressed hands before gratefully taking it.

"Thank you," Chichi said, returning the cup. Her throat felt much better after that.

"It is nothing, I am honored to meet the wife of Son Goku. He returned my father from the grave, and I went on an adventure with him once," the dignified shirtless man said.

"You're Upa?" Chichi said, realization dawning. She had heard the story once, but had forgotten it. He just smiled, looking to where a larger older man who could only be his father watched as two children played with the monster turtles by a conical tent.

The sight made her heart clench.

"Goku's dead," she told him. He closed his eyes and nodded.

"The Elder Turtle explained. How just that he who was ready to set aside his own goals to resurrect a man he just met, will also be granted a second chance. I would offer my hand and might to your cause," he said, holding up a fist between them. Chichi hesitated; it was strange for help to be offered so readily.

But she saw the happy family, and was certain a wife was around somewhere. No, she could not ask such a thing; Goku would never have considered there to be any debt owed, after all.

"Thank you, but I came here to seize destiny with my own hands," she told him. He didn't argue, just nodded, his head and eyes steady.

"Well then, Chichi, now that we are here, let's clarify things," Roshi said, walking up to her. She turned with him, taking in the Korrin Tower.

A massive pillar of stone that rose up and out of sight into the blue sky. It was not just a plain structure, either. As far as she could tell, the length of it was sculpted and adorned murals, with depictions of fish, animals, and beautiful designs. It was an impossibility, and a beauty, and also held a certain dignity. Yes, she could believe this was the structure that connected the Heavens with the Earth.

"You get one try, Chichi. If you make it, fine. But if you fail, you will train under me until I deem you fit to challenge the tower again."

"And what guarantee do I have you won't just string me along?"

"The same guarantee I have that you won't just try and return here after I take you back my island. Honor," Roshi said.

"Do you wish to rest first? Perhaps eat? My wife is hunting, and my father cooks well," Upa offered. Chichi shook her head, facing the tower.

"I can't wait. My son is in the hands of a monster," Chichi told him.

**X X X**

"Do you think she will make it?" Bora asked as they watched Chichi grow smaller in her ascent.

"No. Well, I won't say it's impossible. Too many impossible things have happened in my life. But I think it's a pretty tight bet she is biting off more than she can chew," Roshi said.

"Then why let her? To win your wager?" the elder guardian asked.

"Sometimes people need to fail to realize where they truly stand. And realizing that, they can see both where their goals lie more clearly, and what is needed to reach them. If she wants to walk the warrior's path, she needs to learn that like this tower, you must go one piece at a time. A short cut will only lessen your journey, and it is the journey that is the greater prize.

"Anyway, that offer for dinner still stand?" Roshi asked, sniffing the air.

_Two Days Later:_

Chichi tugged on her own cheek, forcing her eyes back wide.

This was the second worse thing in her life, she decided. Topped only by getting the horrid news that set all this in motion.

The wind seemed endless, cutting trough her dress, making her shiver as it got colder while she went higher. And there was no secure space to sleep, so she dared not. And her hands… even with solid housewife calluses, the scrapes were adding up. Not to mention the time she had nearly fallen relieving herself. She tried not to think about what she could not do in this position.

Oh, and her stomach was growling.

She dared to look up. No sign of the end.

"For Gohan," she muttered, pressing on.

_The Next Day:_

"NOOOOOO!" Chichi screamed as she slipped. She wasn't sure what had happened — one moment she was selecting her next handhold, then the tower was slipping away from her.

Screaming, she was looking up as she fell, still no top in sight. Her family flashed before her eyes…

Then she collided with something hard.

She reflexively thought she was dead, having hit the ground, eyes scrunched shut and irritated going back down was that quick. Then her front collided with stone.

"Huh," She said, finding herself pinned against the tower by a muscly arm.

"Well, you went quite a ways on grit. That's useful," Roshi said. Chichi blinked in confusion and realized he was powered up to his muscle form.

"How?" she stammered.

"I wasn't going to let you fall! After a nap and a good meal, I caught up a bit and kept to the other side of the tower. The moment you fell, you became my student; I have obligations as a teacher," the old hermit said.

Chichi sagged. She had come up short.

"Student, look up," Roshi commanded. Chichi did, seeing only the tower stretching up into the sky.

"Your will did not falter, faced with this great obstacle. But the will can only drive you so far alone. Also needed is the strength of a mind possessing clarity, a purity of goals, and of course the strength and skill of body. As you are now, you fall short of this goal you have set for yourself. One who cannot reach the top of this tower will not defeat Piccolo, that is fact. And as it stands, he will not return Gohan to you without being defeated. You face a choice. Accept this goal is beyond your reach, leave it to others — your friends, your husband who will return, or even heroes that have yet to cross your path. Or you can work to change yourself into someone who can hope to close this gap that stands between you and your goal. Choose," he solemnly told her.

Chichi closed her eyes. She had only learned at first because it was a family tradition, and to meet Goku again in a place he respected. Her martial arts were a means to an end. And any passion for them had faded when her Gohan was placed in her arms. She knew then she wanted the best for him, and would dedicate herself to securing his best future before everything else. For any protection, Goku had been enough.

But for her, it was putting Gohan on a better path. Her father had only become a rich warrior by banditry in his wayward days of her youth. Though he had been forgiven, becoming like a king in truth to their town, she wanted better for Gohan. And Goku was a noble warrior, but he was lacking any other ambition. He'd happily live in a shack without electricity or a proper stove, eating the fat of the land and wearing rags while calling it good.

She didn't want her son to be some impoverished hermit. She was the only one who wanted what was best for him; she had to push him forward and push away anything that might see him fall into that trap of the warrior's way that would stifle him.

It had been going so well. But with Goku gone, she realized how much her plans had depended on others. She couldn't really do anything by herself amongst the giants that loomed over her family's life, she had just thought she could because with her husband, she had sat on the shoulder of a giant.

And now Gohan was in the last place she wanted. Being forced onto a path of violence and destruction. A punk! And as bad as Piccolo's influence would be, she was sure Bulma Briefs, that gallivanting harlot, was filling his head with all sorts of horrid things. And Bulma's son was probably a little thug already, and either bullying Gohan or worse making him a thug too.

Would anyone else care to do something about it? What about if there was a next time?

She needed to be the righteous fist that would open the way of the great scholar for her son! If clearing his way meant becoming a thug herself to keep other thugs away from his life… well, what mother wouldn't do that!?

"I will follow your teachings. Grope me and I'll kill you," she told Roshi.

"Mmph! I never grope my students. There will be peeking, leering, and panting, of course, but inappropriate touching is crossing the line for this teacher!" Roshi declared.

"Can we get down now? I really need to bathe."

**X X X**

"Well, you have some explaining to do," Piccolo said, tossing the limp furry tail aside. Bulma glared under her hand, which was held against her eyebrows against the moonlight.

"I didn't think he would look at the moon. I taught Boxer to never look at it. He wouldn't get his day after treats, and I used pictures to teach him not to."

"How do you teach a kid not to look at the moon?"

"Two pictures. One with no moon you get candy for, the other with the moon you get a mild electric shock."

"…"

"It was for everyone's good, Mr. Pre-School Boot Camp," Bulma huffed.

"So I take it all you tailed weirdos do that?" Piccolo said, looking down to Gohan.

"Never actually tested it, but I didn't take the risk. Still, at least you didn't blow up the moon like you wanted."

"It was a valid option. But if just taking the tail off was enough… Wait, where's the other one?" Piccolo asked an edge o panic in his voice.

"Still asleep," Bulma said, pointing Boxer out with her thumb.

"…I am not sure if that's impressive or a problem. Maybe I should just rip off all your tails to be safe," piccolo mused.

"Hey! I'm the only one who gets to decide when this comes off," Bulma snapped, grabbing her tail protectively.

"Hmm," Piccolo remarked, giving her a look. Bulma raised a fist, while her other hand cupped over her eyes against the moonshine. She moved a bit to the left, and Piccolo realized she was putting herself between him and Boxer.

It would be no challenge to get past her, she couldn't even fly after all. He could get the tail off Boxer and then her before she could even try looking at the moon. But it occurred to him that all three of them looking at the moon would have been a valid tactic to get away from him. It's not like they'd attack their own kin in that state, or it would be a worthless power. And if it hadn't worked, the transformation, he'd never have suspected they would have tried anything. In fact, she could have grabbed Boxer and tried to flee without telling him anything just now during Gohan's rampage.

"Chee," he dismissed her and turned his attention back to Gohan. He would not say it, he decided, but he would not reward this smudge of honor by ripping bits of them off.

Considering Gohan, Bulma stepped up next to him and frowned at the snoring naked boy.

"Well, unless you want him to train in the buff, looks like we get a trip to a town. I can show you the power of a credit card and reacquaint with my old love, toilet paper. And while we're at it-"

"Clothes beam!" Piccolo cut her off, firing off the very complex yet specific technique. The beam struck Gohan and the ki formed into solid matter, essentially a scaled-down version of his basic outfit.

"There, no need, and no need for distractions," Piccolo said. Bulma made a… sound. Looking at the woman, Piccolo cocked an eyebrow at her dropped jaw and wide eyes. Her free hand pointed at Gohan then at him.

"How? Clothes? Explain?" she garbled, seeming about to fall off her own feet.

"It's just a technique. I form ki into some basic matter and sculpt it into the form and texture I visualize. It doesn't work for metal, stone or other dense substances, can't make anything living either. The rate of decomposition is also much higher. But it lets me stay supplied with clothing without having to go shopping, of all things."

"…I could zap my mother into dressing her age. My dad could be made to style. A whole world of poor taste and terrible fashion, zapped away one bad beam at a time," Bulma muttered, breaking out in a sweat.

"…What?" Piccolo asked flatly.

Bulma's eyes sharpened, shooting an intensity usually reserved for the boys' wellbeing.

"Teach me this technique of the gods!" she demanded, head-butting the ground with a bow.

"…Huh?" he let out an undignified noise of confusion despite his best effort.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_And now Chichi is in play. Excellent, the plans for her came unexpectedly but fit as piece one didn't realize was missing. And now not only are the boys training and interacting, but Bulma has two ambitions lighting a fire in her chest._

_Well hope you enjoyed the chapter. Long days and pleasant nights to you all._


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: I do not DBZ or DBZ Abridged. Please support the releases.

_Betaed by_: Zim'smostloyalservant, Trackula, and Phillip.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

_Training Arc!_

(Part II: The Trainerering!)

The sun beat down on the wilderness from a mostly clear sky, a positive picture of nature. The sound, on the other hand, was less than serene.

Bulma grit her teeth, breath straining while sweat ran down her brow, as she planted her foot for the next step. The slope was rocky and the footing could be uncertain. She couldn't lift her head to confirm how close she was to the top. Because a log was laid on her back, held in place by her grip on the bark, and it pressed against her head, keeping her from lifting it from the angle her body was forced into.

The footing, she guessed, wouldn't normally be a problem, but with all this weight the wrong step…

Her foot slipped as a stone came loose.

"SHI-" Bulma cursed, before faceplanting into the ground, the log hammering her into it for good measure. Groaning, her grip slacked and the log rolled off of her, back down the slope.

After a few minutes, she rolled over onto her back, looking up at the sky.

"This is a wrong picture," she muttered.

This wasn't the kind of thing she did. Heck, as a scientist and a rich girl, finding the easier way was practically her thing, rather than doing the hard way for reasons she could not properly string together because a log had just hammered her into the turf. Turf that seemed to be made at least half of rocks.

Bulma brushed dirt off her clothes, a ladies' cut of Piccolo's outfit, including the mon of the Demon Clan. Well, that was a reminder, she supposed; he had zapped that on her when he agreed to train her, said she'd need clothes tough enough. The greatest martial arts move ever, the Clothes Beam; yes, she wanted that.

But maybe that wasn't all? There was more than just wanting to be able to zap up great outfits for herself and be able to impose good taste on those in her life. She could just imagine Goku dressed like the cover guy of a romance novel, elegant yet chest bared…

"Bad Bulma," she muttered, sitting up, "Married man, no touchy. Besides, you have a mission already."

Oddly enough, when she tried imagining a sexy outfit on Piccolo, it was a pirate outfit each time.

'Eh, whatever, pirates can be sexy. I'll shiver his nonexistent timber yet,' she thought.

Perhaps that was her higher motivation? Clearing his hurdles might win respect and that might be the route to seducing him and validating herself as the embodiment of the sexy woman who stood above all others?

Well at least it wasn't as boring as sitting around all day, Bulma thought, walking down the slope to retrieve her log.

_Meanwhile_:

It was a beautiful day on the island of training, just the kind of weather Roshi considered perfect for a base in training the Turtle School. A time the island's inhabitants might take some ease at their labors to enjoy life bit more. But he had business to attend to, he admitted, lighting his pipe anew.

"Well, Chichi, you have done well. You have passed the early barriers as I expected, and with a shell no less. Typically, in the Turtle style, you would soon be at the point where I cut the student loose to build upon the foundation or begin the study of advanced techniques. But there are three issues that must be addressed that differ you from the boys' training back in the day," Roshi said, pausing to take a puff on his smoke and adjust his glasses. Looking from his spot seated on the grass, he continued.

"First, is that I trained them to prepare for a tournament and the life of a martial artist. This time I must prepare you for confrontation with foes that stand far beyond the barrier of humanity. The goal has changed so I must adjust my methods and measure. Secondly, your style was not quite right from the start and degraded besides. Not just technique, but the thought and intention must be corrected. And finally, your spirit is leading you to destruction. Which is why I have you chained to that boulder," Roshi said.

"What the heck, you old pervert?!" Chichi yelled, straining against the lengths of chain strapping her to the boulder.

"You refused to follow my instructions, and were going to damage yourself, Chichi. Words were not reaching you, so I have escalated to actions. I had hoped the failure at the Tower had driven the message home, but that was my mistake. More so than martial arts training, to change one's self is a greater trial. To expect you to divert after a single event, however poignant, was unrealistic. I apologize, student, for that failure," Roshi apologized.

"You can start by unchaining me," Chichi demanded.

Roshi bopped her over the head with his walking stick, having moved in a flash.

"First thing's first. Do you know why I did this?"

"Because I choose to serve you rather than let some poor girl be your lust fuel. And because I wouldn't let you make me just sit and do nothing for so long everyday! I can't stand still!"

"Yes you can, and at times you must!" Roshi snapped, taking off his shades, "The rest periods are not a matter of doing nothing. They are a matter of resting. And no, napping is not a waste of time. Your body, mind, and spirit need time to rest and rejuvenate, especially in the face of exertions such as you have never subjected your body to. Unlike Goku and Krillin, you have no need for basic education, so instead I had you meditate. Your spirit is in turmoil; how you reconcile it is personal, but you cannot just ignore it."

"My drive to save Gohan is why I'm here!"

"If unbridled passion drives you to break yourself or to becoming bitter and dark, you will do no one — including Gohan — any good. I agreed to train you, and that means restraining you from a folly too far, as well as enabling you to grow stronger."

"…"

"And as for the maid work, that is part of it. The point of the servant role is so my students can focus on their training and me on the teaching. I have enjoyed building training around housework, and you have impressed me with progress there. But last night you were ironing in your sleep, and ironed my beard, woman!

"You refuse to properly rest, and then you chose to take additional burdens. I know the body well, and I can see you are on the brink of collapse in body. The Turtle way is to train well, eat well, study well, and rest well. Despite commendable efforts to grow stronger, you reject my teachings by your defiant actions.

"You act as if you know better by ignoring my advice on what weight of a burden you can carry. You resent and refuse to study yourself or rest yourself despite your body and mind crying out with turmoil. At this point, a proper diet is the only thing you've got going. At this rate, you'll put yourself in the hospital, and senzu beans will be useless if you just get up to keep repeating your errors. A teacher should never refuse a student that is willing to learn, but a student that refuses to respect instruction is not truly willing.

"Hmph! I will unchain you. But you must lighten your load in some way and seek to have faith in my teachings if you would become the warrior you want to be."

Getting out a key from his pocket, he walked around the rock and unlocked the chain. Continuing around, he watched Chichi stretch a bit, frowning.

"Hmm, do you want to spar?" he asked. She looked at him wth a raised eyebrow.

"That's not normally my style for training like this, but we are in an unusual place here. And I think even if you just agree, certain doubts will linger in your heart. So let's spar, shall we? I will not power-up or use any ki attacks. Do you want an arena style?"

"…No, there won't be ring-outs with the Saiyans," Chichi said.

"True," Roshi said with a smile as they both fell into stances.

_Shortly_:

Roshi walked up to Chichi as she fell to a knee, panting for breath.

"Concede?" he asked. She glared at him, but nodded after a moment.

"You hardly moved from your start position. Am I still that weak?" Chichi asked.

"No, you're not. I am still stronger than you, but it's not the gap you are imagining right now. You chase victory like your goal of a rescued Gohan, with single-mindedness that blinds you rather than giving clarity. My calm trumps your turmoil and lets me read your intent. My skill lets me own a small space utterly and make use of it so as to not require evasion. As for stamina, that should be your boon at this point, but you have abused your body, shrinking that edge until this old man who futilely struggles against time trumps your fine young body."

Chichi looked at him and Roshi smiled.

"Finally some respect in those eyes? Maybe an apology kiss for hurt feelings while we're here?" Roahi said tapping his right cheek as he leaned in close. Chichi placed a hand on that cheek and softly but firmly shoved him back.

"…You just have to ruin things, don't you?" Chichi grumbled.

"Meh, I'm asking you to change, knowing how hard it is to ditch a vice even if you know it'd be for the best. Wouldn't do to act holier than I am when I'm demanding honesty, would it?

"Now then, you do need to lighten your burden before I resume training you. I am going to leave the details to you, but I will need to approve what you come up with. Hmm, yes, this is good timing. I will get going on a supply run to the mainland. Plan on me being gone for three days. In that time, I order you to not train; rest and recover, meditate if you can. Or socialize with the neighbors. Fish if you like! But step back from your quest, and think," Roshi told her.

"Well, if nothing else, I can sleep soundly knowing I'm not alone with an old pervert," Chichi sighed.

"Hmph! I suppose I just have to take what positivity I can get from you," Roshi muttered.

_Three Days Later:_

"Well, that was a good supply run," Roshi said, climbing out of the submarine with the first box.

"The ladies still have their stuff," he remarked with a lecherous grin as he jumped down to the beach of the training island. Yeah, he could do a good bit of grocery shopping, but there were no clubs to patronize here in the boonies. He was stimulating himself and the economy; it was just being responsible, after all.

Soon enough, he had the crates out and capsuled the submarine. Putting the capsule back in its case, he stroked his beard.

"Well, I may as well get my student's help to get all this in the pantry quick," he remarked.

Cresting the hill, he spied a figure unmistakably mediating behind Kame House. Then did a double-take at the sight, beard bristling.

"What have you done, woman!?" Roshi screamed.

"I decided to cut back like you said," Chichi chirped, getting up. Roshi watched her as she walked up, glasses sliding down his nose to reveal his shocked eyes.

"But… your hair," he managed as she passed him. It was gone. Shaved. Gone.

'Why?!'

He was certain he didn't say that out loud, but it must have passed through to her by the sheer energy of indignant shock he was emitting, because she answered.

"I needed to cut stuff back. But I can't neglect training, and I can't just let chores fall by the wayside or it sets up neglecting my family later. So I cut back first what I could on time spent for myself, washing and caring for my hair, instead shaving the head stubble every two days only with a bit of sunscreen on it. Likewise, I should be able to just bathe every three days or so without any health problem. Make up and stuff, of course, is gone. That still wasn't enough, so I decided to go over simple recipes that required less prep time and energy to prepare. Unfortunately, I still have to cede a bit to you. I will only be able to keep the house as clean you would rather than I would with this cut back," Chichi sighed.

Roshi just stared as she pulled out a piece of paper which accounted for the time saved, apparently.

Spying the supplies by the shore, Chichi nodded to herself and left the old master to tend to that chore. Alone, Roshi spoke.

"I… I was actually just hoping she'd get me a sexy maid. Did I just turn Goku's wife into a smelly monk? What will Goku say if he comes back to find his wife like this!?" Roshi wondered with horror.

ROSHI VISION:

_A smiling Goku stepped into view, doing a few stretches._

_"Wow, back from the dead! Boy, it will be nice to see everyone before fighting those nasty Saiyans."_

_"Goku, my love! Oh, to be held in your strapping martial artist arms again! We should re-consummate our marriage right now!" A bikini-clad but filthy and bald Chichi pirouetted into the vision to lean on Goku._

_"Hi, Chichi! Did you do something with your hair?"_

_"It's gone, Goku! It was Roshi's idea! So was the not bathing!"_

_"Neat, you started training, look at those girl biceps. We should spar later," Goku said, giving a thumbs up."_

_"AHEM!" Bulma's voice cut in on the scene._

_"Because this is Roshi's fantasy, me and the Launches are going to have a naked pillow fight for no reason!" Bulma declared, entering with Blue and Blonde Launch, whose modesty were only saved by pillows they were carrying._

END ROSHI VISION:

"Steady Roshi, steady," he told himself, shaking his head, "Okay, so Goku's not a problem. Still, I should have known better than to expect a sane concession from a woman that married a stranger based on a literal childhood promise. Oh well, sanity's overrated in a world like this. With that kind of crazy she might just pull this off."

Watching Chichi rush to carry load after load of supplies to Kame House, he wondered if she might prove his strangest student yet.

**X X X**

"Okay you two, you have survived the wilderness and gotten stronger," Piccolo said.

"Heck yeah!" Boxer said. The boy had sunburned and then tanned and his clothes were ragged. Gohan, with his newer set of clothes, looked in better shape but just nodded.

"Don't celebrate! All this means is we are ready to begin the real training. First step is, you two will be learning to work together. Because those Saiyans play for keeps, not a tournament. So if you can win by double-teaming, you will," Piccolo announced

"Huh? But Goku fought one-on-one!" Boxer objected.

"Actually, he and Mr. Piccolo fought together against Raditz," Gohan pointed out.

"And then he died," Boxer rebutted.

"And I didn't. And I'm going to remind you, the odds of any of us surviving are small, so 50% casualties are pretty optimistic. Also, this isn't a discussion, obey me or suffer!" Piccolo said, casually but raising a fist.

They quieted down, and in the distance Bulma cursed, to the sound of a rockslide starting. They all looked in that direction as the cursing trailed off.

"So, while I check to see if the woman just died, you will start off crevasse training. Simple concept. Back to back to go from the bottom to the top. As much as you may despise and distrust one another, you must cooperate to reach the top," he said, pointing to a nearby plateau.

"But where is the cre-" Gohan began.

KABOOM

"And there you are," Piccolo said, gesturing to the freshly-cleaved plateau. As he flew off, Gohan looked to Boxer, who was cracking his knuckles and grinning.

"I hope Bulma's okay," Gohan said.

"My mom's too awesome to be killed by some dumb rocks. Now let's show that crevasse how great I am!" Boxer cheered, charging forward.

**X X X**

"So, still alive I see," Piccolo said, standing in the air over the rockslide. Bulma was standing braced with her back to a cliff face on a narrow ledge above the debris.

"As if I'd die from that! I'm too awesome!" Bulma yelled.

"Hmm, you jumped to there?" he asked, looking from the changed landscape to her perch.

"Of course I…" Bulma blinked, glancing down and frowning, a thoughtful look entering her eyes.

"There, see? Muscles and situational awareness increasing. Though did you know that ledge would hold up or just get lucky?" Piccolo remarked.

"Grrr, well, are you going to get me down?" Bulma demanded.

"Now what would that teach you?" Piccolo said, flying off.

"Someday, Piccolo. Someday," Bulma said, squatting down and checking for handholds.

_Hours Later:_

"Waahhh!/Wahooo!" The boys cried out as they tumbled back down the crevasse. Piccolo sat atop the cleaved rock formation, eyes closed and listening.

THUNK

"…Do you have to enjoy falling so much?!"

"Why are you so scared? It's not killed us yet!"

"Because we're not getting any higher!"

"That because you're so slow!"

"You keep slipping because you go so fast!"

"Well at least I still have a tail!"

Piccolo groaned, cracking an eye open.

"This will take awhile," he grumbled. Well, it's not like it was ever going to be easy to get these two to cooperate, he reminded himself.

_Three Days Later:_

"We did it!" the boys cheered, high-fiving as they stood in front of Piccolo.

"Huh," Piccolo said, "Good job, I guess."

_That Night:_

"Quit your pouting, it's a good thing, isn't it?" Bulma said, stoking the fire. The woman's face was still recovering from two black eyes, and the sleeves torn off her dark blue gi showed arms covered in scrapes, and one pants leg was torn away to show an unshaven leg likewise damaged.

"Not quite. They aren't doing it right," Piccolo grumbled, glancing to where the two boys were curled up behind Bulma, snoring in deep sleep.

"What, like cheating?" Bulma asked.

"The point of this was not just to get them to work together, but also to ignite a rivalry! After the early arguing, they've gotten on too well. Where's that drive to surpass the other even if it means breaking yourself? The grudge? The obsession? They are just working together to win," Piccolo admitted.

"Pfftt! Pfhahahahaha! Oh my! Poor sensei Piccolo! No kung-fu movie cliche for you! The sheer agony of emotionally healthy students, that would not spend years in the wasteland training when they could have just gotten a job or something. So they could live like a person in the meantime of training for world conquest. Hahahaha!" Bulma cackled, bending over and holding her stomach.

"This could be a serious problem, woman. Grudges are excellent fuel for growth! Why, I was born because of a dying grudge!" Piccolo growled.

"Mhm, yes you were. And that's nothing to be ashamed of! Young people today just don't appreciate petty hatred properly," Bulma assured him, patting his knee.

"Are you mocking me, woman?" Piccolo asked, glaring at her.

Bulma answered by pulling down an eyelid and sticking out her tongue, shoulders still bouncing from suppressed laughter.

"Just for that, I'm making you haul a much bigger boulder." That shut her up for a moment.

"Hey, maybe if I watched them train I could help some?" Bulma suggested.

"You don't know fighting. You're barely competent in strength."

"This says otherwise," Bulma said, flexing her left arm, showing the noticeably larger muscles on the limb, "But anyway, I'm a mother, and they do talk with me despite your best efforts. Now, I'm not going to sow angst; but I do know children."

_The Next Day:_

"Dangit Piccolo!" Bulma said. She stood on a rise next to Piccolo, a huge boulder balanced on her back, legs trembling under the weight.

"You wanted to watch. Well, you can watch with extra weight to make standing around training."

"And the weighted clothes?!" she hissed in her intact but sweaty new outfit.

"You wanted replacements, I gave you an upgrade. Now either pay attention so you can offer that advice I've been hearing so much about, or you can go back to scaling with your weights."

"That's a bit easier with an intact spine, and legs," Bulma spat. But still, she watched the boys running through the rock-littered meadow now. Piccolo had tied a leg each together like a three-legged race. And set them to catch the rare Blood Jackalope he had caught for the occasion. A rare majestic beast of the wilds whose speed was matched by its once cornered aggression with its deadly antlers.

"Boys! Be careful, if you box them in they go for the throat! The throat!" Bulma yelled.

The boys each tried to go a different way around a boulder and smacked into it. The boulder cracked as they went down. The jackalope, red-eyed and white-furred, jumped atop the damaged stone and visibly snickered and kicked dust towards them before darting off.

**X X X**

"Owowow!" Boxer whined as Bulma tied a bandage made from his discarded training clothes around his torn open palm and the paste Bulma put on it.

"While you did good protecting your throat, I think it's got too many points for you to catch its attacks," Bulma remarked. She looked to Gohan, who had his own collection of scrapes and gashes she had already tended to.

"It's obvious what they need to do," Piccolo grumbled, where he sat off to the side.

"Sorry, Mr. Piccolo," Gohan muttered. Bulma sighed; he took things to heart so easily, he didn't seem frightened of Piccolo anymore, but he certainly took his words seriously. Dismissing Boxer with her customary double tap on his shoulder — he always had been eager to get back whatever from her fixing him up — Bulma reached over to grab Gohan in a one-armed hug. He stumbled a bit as she pulled him close, but didn't as she gave him a gentle knuckle rub on the scalp.

"Don't get down on yourself, Gohan. If you hadn't been taking point there, coming up with a rhythm for running and calling out directions, I doubt you would have cornered that monster at all today. And you're the one who came up with everything for the chasm, right?" Bulma assured him.

"Uh, actually, it was a crevasse," Gohan said, blushing a bit at the praise.

"Are you going to give any actual advice?" Piccolo demanded. Meanwhile, Boxer stood off to the side, frowning.

**X X X**

"Around the trees one more time, the jackalope dances a jig before tying the snake with its own tail," Bulma muttered, finishing the knot on the rope. She lightly smacked the cords binding the boys' legs together and stood up.

"All set!" she called to Piccolo. He was standing some distance off, holding the furious jackalope, which was trying to escape his grasp by gnawing and slashing at his arm. The Demon Prince didn't seem to even notice, only nodding to Bulma.

Turning back to the boys, she pressed her lips into a line and put her hands on their hair.

"You boys have been doing well, but the clock is ticking. I don't mean to pressure you, but this is only the next hurdle. So go be amazing, and make Piccolo worry his training isn't tough enough!" Bulma cheered.

"I already let the thing go!" Piccolo shouted.

"Crap! Go go!" Bulma said, gesturing wildly.

"Gohan!" Boxer said as they took off.

"What?"

"I wanna give the directions this time!" Boxer said as they closed the distance with the small yet vicious beast.

"Okay."

_Seven Minutes Later:_

"Well, that was a leap backwards," Piccolo said, standing on top of a broken boulder as Bulma made each prone boy follow her fingers with their eyes.

"Boxer, I wanna give directions from now on," Gohan groaned.

"Okay, but only because I'm nice," Boxer agreed.

"Break's over, back to it!" Piccolo snapped.

**X X X**

"Well, well, well. Hello there," Bulma cackled, holding the creature up by its long ears.

Night had fallen, and the battered and cut boys had passed out even without dinner. Piccolo was off somewhere, and Bulma held the deantlered and defanged jackalope in her grasp. The night was silent, save for the crackle of the fire and the chirp of insects.

Bulma grinned, showing off her teeth as her eyes practically lit up.

"Let's be clear, I have not enjoyed watching you give my boys the business. Saw how you enjoyed making 'em bleed and sweat. Never occurred to you you'd lose this little game, huh? And I had to watch it all on top of being stranded in the wilderness all this time without beer, decent food, indoor plumbing, or so much as a roll of toilet paper!

"You might think of yourself as a mighty jackalope, but you've lost everything pointy about you and have a bum leg. You're just an oversized bunny in need of eyedrops now. At my mercy! And you have two choices — either I cook you up for them as some catharsis, or you become my servant for all your days as a bunny butler in this wilderness and beyond!"

Before this overwhelming aura of doom, the creature that was once proud fierce and free, knew that nodding its ears was the right choice.

_Morning:_

"Bulma, why is the jackalope bringing the firewood?" Gohan asked as they ate the meat Piccolo had brought on sticks.

"She's seen the error of her ways. And call her a bunny, she's been demoted from majestic beast to minion," Bulma said as she did some stretches.

"Ah, so I can't eat it?" Boxer whined, even as he tore purple meat off a bone.

"Only if she disobeys," Bulma assured him.

"…You are a disturbing woman," Piccolo said, checking his fish.

_Later_:

Bulma stood atop a stone spire, a boulder with another boulder chained to it on her back as the sun rose. Below on the grass, Piccolo stood, arms crossed and face set in a scowl as the boys faced him in fresh dark blue uniforms.

Looking over his students for something and perhaps satisfied, Piccolo began to speak.

"Now we begin the final phase of your training for the Saiyans. Sparring. Learning to survive and work together, you have unlocked some of your potential. But potential is just another way of saying you haven't done it yet. So now it's time to put what you have gained to use. From now until further notice, any time not spent sleeping or eating I will be pushing you in combat. How you fight, how you fight together or apart. That's on you. No one is going to hold your hand and tell you how to win in the battle to come. And you'd better fight now as if your life depends on it. Because soon it and the lives of everyone on Earth will."

WHOOSH

"Are we done talking then? I wanna fight," Boxer smirked, falling into a stance while Gohan silently emulated him, though without a smile.

"Then I guess there's just one more thing for me to say to you two. DODGE!" Piccolo yelled, blowing them both off their feet with a ki blast from his palm as he closed the distance.

"You know they aren't going to learn anything if you beat them in one blow!" Bulma yelled down.

"Save the commentary, I know what I'm doing!"

"That's a relief. So why don't you take your own advice?"

"Hmph!" Piccolo huffed, effortlessly deflecting two punches, one from each of his students with his forearms and sending them flying again with the counter.

"Is that all?" Piccolo questioned, not bothering to turn as the boys pulled themselves together.

That Night:

Mr. Piccolo and Bulma had gone off again, leaving Gohan with only the sound of the fire and the wilderness. And the bunny tending the fire. Rolling over, he noticed he wasn't hearing snoring from Boxer.

"Boxer, are you awake?"

"No," Boxer said. Gohan frowned and sat up, staring at the other boy. Boxer seemed to feel it, rolling over to look at Gohan but not sitting up.

"Mom will be angry if we're up after she told us to sleep."

"My mom's like that too."

"Chichi, the one who yells a lot right?"

"I guess?"

"…What's it like having Goku for a dad, Gohan?"

"I dunno, he's the only dad I had."

"Is it like with Piccolo?"

"Not really, he's not around as much I guess. But it's okay. What about your dad?"

"I don't have one. But my mom is the best! She trains with me and is super smart and the prettiest. Though someday I'll get an even prettier girl for a wife and be a king and the strongest under the heavens. Be nice to have a dad, though."

"Are you two talking about how you want me to double up the training? Because you don't seem to need to sleep!" Piccolo calmly yelled from somewhere in the darkness.

"Boxer! Gohan! Don't make me come over there! Bedtime means bedtime!" Bulma called out as well.

_Ten Days Before the Saiyan Landing:_

Chichi stood on the beach, holding herself in a stance and breathing steadily and deeply. Roshi stood nearby watching her, eyes hidden by his shades.

Chichi slid her feet on the sand and narrowed her eyes as her arms and body flowed to a different stance.

"Kame. Hame," She said, energy crackling in her palm as a ball of ki ignited.

"HA!" Chichi shouted, sending a beam of ki surging from her thrust hands over the water. The beam was nearly as wide as her arm, and in a moment flicked out. She didn't stumble, moving back into a resting stance, but sweat ran dow her brow.

"Well done, Chichi, you have crossed a threshold many fall short of. You have performed a Kamehameha Wave," Roshi said, stroking his beard.

"That wasn't much like yours or Goku's," Chichi said, wiping her brow.

"Because that was rubbish compared to ours," he said flatly. Chichi glared at him, but he just walked up, offering her a cup of water.

"For someone who neglected her training for years, you have truly pushed past the boundary of humanity to arrive here as quickly as you have. But that being said, achieving the ability to perform a technique like this is only the gateway to the ordeal of learning how to use with enough skill to be worthwhile. And then further master it to bring out its full potential.

"As it stands, your Kamehameha is too slow and weak to be worth the time taken to charge and fire alone. And the amount of energy wasted means against any worthy foe, even if it connects you will likely end up more damaged from it than them. This is merely a ledge leading to the next height to scale. And it's a fact you don't have time to master the Kamehameha Wave. But don't despair; while ki attacks may not be something you can use, your martial arts have surpassed my own in power and stamina," Roshi explained.

"So, I'm ready for the Saiyans?" Chichi asked, looking at her calloused hands.

"Is anyone ever truly ready for a fight to the death? Suffice to say, you're more ready than I am at this point, even with the Kamehameha. And that means you have my blessing," Roshi sighed.

"What?" Chichi asked.

"Did you forget? Korin Tower! Having come this far, you have my blessing to challenge the tower again if you choose. You're hardly guaranteed to get there, but I think you are capable now. But with so little time left…"

"…Would you summon a baby Gamera?" Chichi asked.

"Hmph, maybe that stubbornness can become an asset?" Roshi chuckled.

"Maybe I'm just happy to be done with you? Enough to ride the vomit turtle."

"So cruel!"

_Later_:

Chichi had taken a nap and meal with the guardian family before taking on the tower again. Sitting with the family, it occurred to her how few guests had ever been around her own table. Other than her father and visits to him, they had been fairly isolated in Gohan's short life.

But the tower awaited, and after a final bit of stretches and securing a backpack with supplies for her ascent, she set off with a wave to acknowledge the well wishes of the guardians.

**X X X**

How much stronger had she gotten really, Chichi wondered as she clung to the tower, resting from the effort.

Stamina had been a major topic for Master Roshi's training, and she was certain she was reaching her limit. She could not properly rest, and her rations were not keeping up with her needs for this constant exertion. And the ever present fear of falling whether climbing for rest or seeking hand and footholds…

The tower truly was another level of testing a warrior's worth. And so simple. If it wasn't so frustrating, maybe she'd find it in herself to admire it.

This was it; if she pressed further, she may not be able to get down safely. And if she fell and survived, she'd need to hope for a senzu bean to be ready to fight the Saiyans and take back Gohan. And she could just see them all denying her one, saying her failure here proved she wasn't ready.

She glanced up at the taunting height, and blinked. The uniformity of the stretching tower into an endless sky was broken. A blob of darkness at the edge of what she could see.

Was that… the top?

Abandoning thoughts of retreat, the mother of Gohan threw herself back into ascent.

**X X X**

"So close," Chichi cursed. The tower, of course, did not just rise into the house on top of it. That would be too easy. Instead, ladders ran along the bottom of the structure, leading to holes. She'd have to dangle almost upside down over the death drop and climb until she could scramble though a hole.

Reducing her curses to unspoken, the exhausted woman regulated her breathing, adjusted her joints and reached out to take the first handhold. When she'd abandoned the tower, hanging upside down, resisting gravity only by her grip, a moment of terror and vertigo ran through her like a bolt.

'Gohan, for Gohan,' she reminded herself, and took another hold, as the empty sky seemed to tug on her.

It wasn't until she collapsed on the floor of the first chamber that it felt like her heart was beating again.

"Well then, I wasn't sure you would make it. Well done, and here, you've earned this," a man said in a scratchy voice. Opening her eyes and turning her head, Chichi saw a white cat sitting on his hind legs holding a wood staff.

"I think Goku mentioned you."

"Yeah, and I wasn't invited to the wedding? Anyway, senzu bean!" he said, throwing a senzu bean onto her face. Chichi blinked.

"Not so well trained as Goku, eh? He would have caught that in his mouth."

"Compare me to Goku, not like it's the first time that happened since I started training," Chichi snarked, picking up the bean and eating it. Energy surged through her, and all the aches and fatigue was gone. Even the creeping hunger she hadn't noticed.

"Well, it's probably not stopping anytime soon. You put yourself next to a true champion. Hey, he didn't tell you about the Divine Water, did he?"

"No, not really."

"Good, gooood. Yajirobe is up with Kami, training under Mr. Popo. Hopefully he survives," Korin muttered.

"What?" Chichi asked.

"Nothing, just been a bit lonely. It's amazing, you live as a hermit for centuries, but less than a decade of having a housemate and you get used to it. Well, this way, the water is upstairs."

**X X X**

"Wow, that pot is delightful! Could I get one for my house?" Chichi squeed, looking at the Divine Water pot.

"Uh, sure, I'll ask Kami about it sometime. But that is the water you seek," the cat tried to recover the drama of the moment.

"Huh. Is there an elevator back down?" Chichi asked.

"Uh, but the water power-up?" Korin stammered.

"I only have a few days before the Saiyans arrive. I won't be able to master a power-up in that time. After the Saiyans, maybe I can get Piccolo to agree to a duel time for Gohan and use that… But I came here more to prove to myself I could."

"Hohohoho! I think this is a first; someone who came here more interested in the climb than the prize. You may be strange enough to be Son Goku's wife after all," Korin chuckled.

"Soooo, elevator?" Chichi asked.

"Actually, there's a quicker way down," Korrin said, pointing to the railing.

"Oh, that's just rich! Hardy har har!"

"No! Not jumping. Take a look," the cat said, hopping to the railing and gesturing her to look over.

Chichi joined him and started at the massive golden cloud below them.

"A Flying Nimbus!?"

"The Flying Nimbus, if you would. This is where they come from, and once dispersed what they return to. The Mother Nimbus, if you would. If you are pure of heart, the Mother Nimbus will hold you and let you tear off one for yourself. And you're already doing it," Korrin said as Chichi hopped the railing.

The cloud bounced under her impact, but held, Chichi tapping her foot and giving a sly grin.

"Ha, still pure of heart, take that Bulma! Now Goku and I both have one of these. Hmm, better make it bigger than his, family model," Chichi said, gathering up armfuls of magic cloud. Then with a tear, the new Nimbus wiggled free and floated in front of her.

True to her word, it was big enough for at least three adults to stand on comfortably.

"Alright Nimbus, take me back to Kame House!" Chichi demanded, jumping on it.

"Well, there she goes. It's funny, though — who would have thought Goku would marry some monk? Meh, tastes differ, after all. Though she could stand to bathe more," Korrin sighed, alone in his tower again, "I miss Yajirobe."

**X X X**

Roshi hummed to himself as he pulled the six pack out of the ice and looked over his two sandwiches with a critical eye. Kame House was back on its proper island and it was only a week now until the world might end, again. So it called for making good use of his time with good food, good booze, and a VCR loaded and set for "sexy".

"Master Roshi!"

"And now Chichi's here. Wait for me, tasty sandwiches, beers," Roshi said, before heading to the door and swinging it open. Chichi was standing over the surf in an oversized Flying Nimbus.

"Hahaha! You did it! But wait, you couldn't have gained the water so quickly!" Roshi cheered, before gasping. Chichi smiled and explained what happened.

"Chichi, I am more proud now than when you made the Kamehameha. It takes true maturity as a martial artist to admit when you are not ready to tackle a hurdle and exercise patience. You have come far," Roshi said beaming.

"Thank you. But I didn't come here for compliments. I want a last bit of training. A special move," Chichi told him.

"I believe I already gave you the riot act on the Kamehameha. You'd be better off heading home and spending some time with your father before the battle," Roshi chastised.

"That's not the move I am interested in," Chichi said. She told him what she wanted.

"…Yes, we might be able to do something with that. We will begin at once," Roshi told her.

"Not going to try and talk me out of it?" Chichi asked.

"No. Others I might worry, but you understand what you are asking."

"Good, let's show the Saiyans the strength of the Earth is not just named Goku," Chichi said with a stern nod. Roshi grinned, taking his shades off.

_Two Day Later:_

"Alright, it's five days before the Saiyans land. You're as ready as you are going to be," Piccolo said to the panting boys.

"What's that mean?" Boxer asked, wiping dirt from a black eye.

"Are we done?" Gohan asked, perking a bit.

"Better to rest and be at peak form when the time comes. And it's only over in the sense that next time, you two will be fighting people who want to kill you, and everyone else on the planet for that matter."

BATHUNK

"Well, that's enough of that then!" Bulma said, cracking her back and flexing her shoulders, having dropped the massive boulder she had been holding with an oversized chain wrapped around it.

"So then, when do we start on the ki? My body should be super prepped!" Bulma said, flexing an arm exposed by a torn sleeve.

"Not really," Piccolo said.

…

"What?" Bulma said.

"I didn't want to waste time ki training you, so I just had you carry heavy stuff and do hard things to keep you busy. But hey, muscle and other physical perks or something. Anyway, you can go away now," Piccolo said, dismissing her with a wave.

…

"YOU BASTARD!" Bulma screamed.

"Hardly accurate, I was born from one parent."

"Gohan, Boxer, we're leaving! I'm done with this kung-fu hermit stuff."

"You might try attracting mates with all that new muscle tone!" Piccolo called mockingly.

"I will destroy you with it! Someday, after I'm embezzling money from you when you're king!" Bulma shrieked as she stomped away.

"King of what, Bulma?" Gohan asked.

"I'll explain when you're older, Gohan. Boxer! Move it!" Bulma demanded. Then paused, glancing back.

"I almost forgot. Boxer, get the bunny," Bulma commanded. The creature shrieked and tried to flee only to be quickly grabbed by the boy, who ran back to his mother.

"You belong to me now, Bunny. If I can't get the best martial arts move ever yet, I'll settle for a cuddly servant as a consolation prize. Now let's move out — I've been without beer and real food for too long! I will live before I maybe die!" Bulma declared with a raised fist.

"Can you drop me at my house? I want to see my mom before the battle," Gohan asked.

"Ahhh, I wanted to show you our house! It's the best," Boxer griped.

Soon enough they were gone, and Piccolo sighed deeply, closing his eyes and letting a small smile light his face.

"Ah, finally. A bit of solitude. Just me and the wilderness, preparing for an epic confrontation. After all, it's not like I got attached to having know-nothing brats and a loud, annoying woman around."

*WHOOSHWHOOSH*

"Ah crap," Piccolo cursed, sitting down on the grass.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_And so the dreaded training arc comes to a close. Chichi is on the path of the warrior and Bulma while stronger is no better a fighter; and the boys have obtained some fighting ad teamwork skills, mostly offscreen._

_Chichi shaving her head was bit of a surprise. Originally I was only going to have her shear it very short, but with her all or nothing approach I realized she would likely go that extra mile. And it messed with Roshi too. Heh. But yeah in the process of writing this chapter my plans for Chichi shifted and gained a bit more clarity; I hope it will be as interesting for you to read as it will be too write.  
_

_Bulma enslaving the defeated Jackalope was another surprise. _

_These ladies of Dragon Ball they keep surprising me in interesting ways as they burst out of their old ruts._

_And next chapter the dynamic duo of Short and XL arrive. Looking forward to writing them, and the challenge of some real battle sequences._

_Though it will be a bit of a what for the next chapter, I plan to update at least one other story before coming back to this one._

_Well, until next time, long days and pleasant nights to you all._


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Drago Ball Z.

_Betaed by:_ Zim'smostyloalservant & Trackula

* * *

**Chapter 6**

_Meet the Saiyans!_

"So, this is where Goku hung up his gi, eh? Pretty nice looking, all things considered," Dr. Briefs remarked. His personal long-range aircar was parked on the dirt tract that connected the homestead to civilization. Boxer was seated on the hood, looking around with interest. Naturally, seeing Goku's house would get his attention; if he'd learned Grandpa Gohan's hut was on the property, the place where Bulma first met that little monkey boy so long ago, he'd probably run off, never mind the "no dessert".

Bulma, for her part, was not paying any attention to them at the moment. She stood on the lawn, not wanting to provoke some tirade from Chichi for trespassing. But Gohan had run up, eager to see his mom, and some middle-aged man she'd never seen before had answered the door. She couldn't hear them, but Gohan's eagerness was as gone as a summer wind in December, and the other guy looked like an employee having to explain why he was seen out drinking during his sick leave.

Finally, Gohan bowed to the stranger and turned back.

"Gohan, what's up?" she asked as the dejected boy walked up to her.

"Mom's not here. All he knows is she left to train. He doesn't know where she is or how to find her," Gohan reported morosely.

'Dangit, he really wanted to see her, too. He might die soon, we all might,' Bulma thought. And there was no time to search, in her opinion.

"Well, say the word and we can drop you at your Grandpa's."

"WHAT?! If his mom's not home, he should come with us! Our house is the best!" Boxer said, suddenly leaning around Bulma's legs.

"Uh," Gohan stuttered.

"Good idea, boy, it'd be good to have you two spend some time together that doesn't involve training," Dr. Briefs remarked from the aircar.

"Well, I don't mind, of course. But is that what you want, Gohan?" Bulma asked.

"Come on! Sleepover," Boxer said, punching the air. Bulma lightly bonked her son on the head.

"Let him decide," she chided.

"Well, okay, if it's no trouble, I guess."

_Capsule Corp:_

"Aw, sweetie, must we?" Mrs. Briefs asked, standing by the limo in the driveway as Bulma literally pushed her father down to join her.

"Well, isn't this the modern condition in a nutshell. You work hard to provide everything for your kid, then she kicks you out of your own house," Dr. Briefs remarked, matter of factly.

"It's just till this is over, or the world ends. And you brought this on yourselves by being yourselves. Not five minutes in there and you offer Gohan beer and a magazine while he uses the toilet!" Bulma shrieked, depositing her father next to the limo, "Gohan's not like Goku — he does not have an aura of stupidity to protect him from your deviancies!"

"Smart boy, is he? Say, if Goku leaves Chichi for you, would you mind trying to bring him along? My lawyers could do it."

"DAD!"

"What? I love Boxer, but he's not heir-to-the-empire material. A stepson would do just fine," the Doctor said.

"And those boys are cute together, brothers even from different mothers," Mrs Briefs cooed.

"…Shut up! Be gone! I haven't had any alcohol or food that wasn't hunted and gathered in a year, and the world might end within a week! I cannot even with you two!" Bulma screamed throwing her arms up.

"We missed you too, Bulma!" they said in sync as the limo pulled away.

"Oi! Okay, now beer. Then a mattress. And food. SOMEONE BRING ME ALL THE PIZZA!" Bulma shouted to no one in particular, "Now that the toxic influences are gone, I can make sure Gohan is relaxing in a way that Chichi won't try and murder me for in my sleep."

_The Next Night:_

After being gone so long, Bulma had to admit she had a neat home. The pets, the robots, the alcohol storage units, the live-in chef that could make a great pizza and other wonderfully unhealthy foods.

The big screen TVs with every videogame system known to woman.

"Quarter circle back, Gohan, holding down A," Bulma said. When he pulled off the move, her warrior cat woman dodged his buff guy in a lab coat's lightning attack.

"So they built a machine so people could fake fight?" Gohsn asked.

"Yes they did. You get to beat people up without getting dirty or going to jail. Boxer doesn't get it."

"Are there other kinds of games?" Gijhan asked looking intrigued.

"None worth mentioning!" Bulma said, draining the last of her six pack. Cheeks flushed, she proceeded to do a massive combo on Gohan.

"You're good at this," Gohan said, sweat-dropping a bit as she executed a finishing move using his avatar as a scratching post. Which for some reason then exploded.

"Nah, you're just new. Now, someone stole my beer and chicken, could you go get some more?" Bulma asked.

_The Day:_**  
**

Roshi watched from his porch as Chichi's Flying Nimbus answered her call and swept down from the sky to wait on the beach. Looking her over, he nodded, not just in appreciation of her body, but on how far she had come from the lapsed student of the martial arts she had been.

"Chichi! You have a fierce sprit, but you will die achieving nothing if you try and match them power with power. Be cunning!" he called to her as he tossed her a capsule. Chichi caught it from the air and grinned.

"What, no pervy remarks? Maybe the world really is ending," she snarked.

"No respect," Roshi grumbled, watching the nimbus take off, "Even so, hurry back Goku. I don't want to see her potential nipped in the bud again."

**X X X**

Launch waved as Tien and Chiaotzu flew off from their cliffside dwelling.

"Don't die, you two, or I'll freaking kill you!" the blonde shouted after them.

**X X X**

Yamcha looked over his hideout, though it was more just a home since he wasn't hiding these days.

"Lord Yamcha," Puar said nervously. Yamcha gave his oldest friend a smile.

"No sense worrying now, we're as ready as we could be."

**X X X**

"Today's the day," Piccolo said, flying through the air.

**X X X**

The alarm clock, dented and partially crunched, started to flash and let out a fire engine-sized whirring sound.

SMASH

BOOM

Bulma blinked, awoken by the anti-snooze bomb.

"Ugh, why do I invent stuff to use against myself?" Bulma groused, pulling the covers off the bed with her, letting Boxer hit the floor to finish waking up.

"Huh, aww," she muttered, noticing Gohan had snuck into the bed at some point. And one-upped her boy by staying on the bed, though he was blearily awake.

"Well, another day another OH CRAP!" Bulma said, opening her closet, where the backup alarm clock had the correct time and a sticky note reminding her what today was.

"…Well, get ready, boys. It's showtime," she said, putting on a brave face and giving a thumbs up.

**X X X**

"So, Krillin, today's the day. No need to worry, we have all been training hard. So it's all of us against just two of them. Never mind that one of them took Goku and Piccolo both to get beaten, and it cost Goku's life. And they are stronger than Raditz was… I really am not good at giving pep talks. Guess it's a good thing I'm alone," Krillin sighed, looking around the stretch of wasteland they had agreed to meet at.

"Krillin, you're the first here?" Yamcha said, flying in.

"Yeah, I didn't really have anything to make me delay now, ya know."

"Hm, I had to send my student off on a task. But after that, it was just me and Puar."

"Wow, you took a student? Heh, between Roshi's three disciples, who'd have thought you'd be the first?"

"Uh, yeah, I suppose. And honestly, it was more she took me as her teacher. She's quite insistent," Yamcha said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Good problem to have, it sounds like," Krillin muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, just reflecting. So you didn't tell her about all this?"

"No. I couldn't hide; I was training hard, but she thinks I'm training to avenge Goku with a duel that will be in six months."

"Oh, that's clever."

"You don't have to sound so surprised."

"Oh look, it's Tien and Chiaotzu!"

"So you two are here, guess that just leaves the Demon Clan School or whatever," Tien remarked as he and his friend landed.

"Don't knock it, we're going to need all the fire power we can get."

"I know. Still, leaving Goku's kid and Bulma's in the monster's hands hurts my warrior's pride. Don't forget we have a score to settle once this is over."

"I don't recall ever settling the score with you, and here we are," Yamcha pointed out.

"Point Yamcha," Krilin remarked.

"Hey!" Chiaotzu objected as Tien just rolled all his eyes.

"Well, here comes someone else. Did Goku lend out his Flying Nimbus to anyone?" Tien asked.

The Flying Nimbus swooped in and its partner stepped down onto the ground. She was wearing a Turtle School uniform, and despite the shaved head was clearly a she. The short sleeves showed off well-toned arms, and the movement was clearly trained.

"Master Roshi trained a new pupil?" Yamcha asked as the newcomer walked over.

"He trained a girl?!"

"What's so odd about that? We had some women in the Crane School," Tien pointed out.

"Well, it just goes to show what I always say, if you're serious about martial arts, you shave your head," Krillin boasted, crossing his arms. Then quirked an eyebrow, feeling a sense of odd dread in his bones. Distinct from the dread building over the past week.

"Where's Gohan?" the woman demanded, reaching them.

"…Chichi?!" Krillin shrieked.

"Huh, good look for you," Tien remarked, before looking off.

"Uh, huh. Well, I know you come from a martial arts lineage, but I kind of thought you'd given that up for the housewife deal. Still, nice… tone?" Yamcha said.

"I did. When all of you so-called warriors came up short on saving my son, I decided to do it myself."

"And Piccolo shaved your head? Isn't that sexual harassment?" Krillin asked.

"No, I did that! I wasn't able to save Gohan then, but he let me live, telling me I could challenge him later. So I decided the outcome of this battle and my son's well being wasn't something to leave in the hands of punks like you. Even putting up with Roshi so long was worth it."

"Well, that is impressive. But you might still be the weakest," Yamcha pointed out. Chichi grinned and pulled out a pair of capsules.

"Unlike you proud warriors, I'm not above using some tools to make a job easier."

"This is going to end in tears, isn't it?" Tien sighed.

"Is that why Launch won't train with us, Tien, because she'd have to shave her head?"

"No, one Launch is a pacifist and the other loves guns too much to train in martial arts," Tien answered.

"And again, where is my son?" Chichi demanded.

"Is this them?" Krillin asked, pointing to an approaching aircraft.

Chichi practically sparkled, running up through the dust kicked up by the vehicle as it landed.

Bulma flipped switches, beginning the ship's power down. And thinking she could have taken a lesser ship, with the time they made.

"Looks like we only beat Piccolo here. What's he waiting for? Not like he has a life. Eh, who's this? Did Krillin get a girlfriend?" Bulma grumbled. Gohan, who after a game of rock-paper-scissors was riding shotgun, sat up high to see the woman approaching better. While Bulma frowned, his face lit up with a smile.

"Gohan?" Bulma asked, as the boy unbuckled himself and practically shot out the door. The bald woman had been reaching for the door when it opened and was knocked flat onto her back by the boy careening into her chest.

"Mom!" he cheered.

"Gohan!" the woman — Chichi, a shocked Bulma realized — sat up, glomping her son right back.

"Chichi?" A stunned Bulma said, leaning out of the vehicle.

"Man, Gohan's mom is a fighter?" Boxer asked.

"Kind of was, and once again?" Bulma wondered. Chichi's smile vanished, catching sight of Bulma.

"Uh, nice scalp?"

**X X X**

Bulma sat down on a rock, plopping a six-pack down on the dirt next to her and grabbing a beer bottle from it, flicking the cap off with practiced ease. Krillin walked up as she took a swig.

"So Bulma, brought some drinks for the fighters, eh?" he asked.

"Well, there are six bottles, so obviously they're all for me. It's not easy for me to get a buzz these days," Bulma snarked.

"I'm telling you, she's plotting with Piccolo to take over the world. Just look at her, she's clearly evil!" Chichi insisted.

"And it has nothing to do with you being worried Bulma might be a better kisser?" Tien remarked.

"Gah, not in front of Gohan!" Chichi wailed.

"Uh, I've known Bulma for a long time, and while I don't regret breaking up with her, she's really not the villain type."

"But she is! She wants to rule the world through Piccolo with her city girl wiles!"

"Bulma's going to marry Piccolo?" Gohan asked, tilting his head.

"Ahh, I was hoping for Goku as a dad," Boxer whined.

…

"Uh, well, that was said," Yamcha remarked.

"GOKU'S NOT GOING TO BE YOUR DAD! HE'S GOHAN'S!" Chichi yelled at Boxer, jumping to her feet.

"HEY! NO ONE SCREAMS IN MY SON'S FACE BUT ME! BACK OFF!" Bulma yelled, brandishing her second beer. Krillin watched her stomp off and reached for a bottle.

"Touch the booze and you won't leave to see a Saiyan!"

"See, not sharing, classic sign of villainy!"

"Villain?! And I suppose you're a saint!?"

"Well, I was raised right and live right, not that you'd know much about that! I shudder to think what you've exposed my poor innocent Gohan to!"

"Hey, I was kidnapped too! Not like I asked Piccolo to grab me, and my son was there too!"

"Considering his mother, he was probably already a hopeless punk!"

"Well, he's never been a wimp! What kind of woman has her son groomed as a doormat when his father's the most badass guy ever?!"

"He's a gentle soul, LIKE HIS MOTHER!"

Yamcha cleared his throat.

"Umm, ladies? Is this really the time-"

"SHUT UP YAMCHA!" both women yelled at him before butting heads literally, growling as they glared into each other's eyes. Yamcha practically stumbled under the force of the yell.

"Well, what did you think was going to happen?" Krillin asked, shaking his head.

"Fight, fight, fight!" Boxer cheered.

'Are they going to kiss? If this were a manga they might. Ah heck, I'd take a fanfiction,' Krillin thought, watching the sparks practically ignite the air.

"By the way, what's with the outfit?!" Bulma asked.

"I have been training under master Roshi!"

"Ewww! Tell me you weren't that desperate!?"

"I wasn't! He never got the chance to do anything, but I climbed the stupid tower and I can Kamehamemha!"

"That's legitimately impressive, Piccolo didn't teach me crap but made me as all muscly!"

"Thank you, and I see you didn't run out of hair spray!"

"It's naturally like this now!"

"That's stupid!"

"But true!"

"Why should I believe anything you say?!"

"Why shouldn't you?!"

"You tried to steal my fiancé away! I can just imagine running around with him in those scandalous outfits! What kind of woman acts like that around an engaged man?!"

"HE DIDN'T EVEN NOW WHAT MARRIAGE WAS!"

"That's true," Krillin remarked on the sidelines.

"I still have a hard time believing Goku was able to, well, Gohan," Yamcha muttered.

"And I really don't care," Tien stated.

"IT WAS A PROMISE OF LOVE, IT TRANSCENDS ALL THINGS, EVEN IGNORANCE!"

"LOVE?! YOU WERE TOO YOUNG TO EVEN HAVE BREASTS! AND BY THE WAY, WHAT WAS WITH THAT ARMOR?! AND YOU CALL ME OUT FOR HOW I DRESS?!"

"IT WAS A TIME-HONORED TRADITION OF MY PEOPLE!"

"WELL GOOD FOR YOU!"

"THANK YOU! DID PICCOLO REALLY TEACH YOU NOTHING?!"

"YES, HE CAN BE SUCH A JERK!"

"WELL HE'S EVIL, WHAT DID YOU EXPECT!"

"EVIL WAS NO EXCUSE TO TURN DOWN MY SEXINESS! IT'S BEYOND GOOD AND EVIL!"

"WELL AS LONG AS YOU'RE NOT AFTER GOKU I'LL CALL THAT PROGRESS! HAVE YOU TRIED DRESSING DIFFERENTLY, MAYBE HE'S OLD-FASHIONED?!"

"NOT A BAD IDEA, THANKS! I'LL BAG HIM IN THE SACK YET!"

"Uh, ladies," Yamcha spoke up again.

"WHAT?!"

Tien cut in, pointing to the side, where Piccolo was sitting trying to meditate on a rock.

"Gah! When did he get here?!" both women recoiled in sync, their foreheads red from the pressure.

"About two minutes ago. Clearly I timed it wrong to avoid pre-battle idiocy," Piccolo remarked.

…

…

"Sooo, everyone have a good year?" Yamcha asked.

"Why do you try?" Tien asked.

"Well, mine was pretty good," Yamcha defended.

"Gohan, don't stand next to that punk!"

"Boxer, don't let her tell you what to do, you can stand where you please."

"ENOUGH! What's the point of all this when we all might be dead soon?!" Piccolo demanded.

"Looks like they started without us, Vegeta."

The Earthlings turned to look at the voice.

"Hi," Nappa said, standing a distance away with Vegeta. Then his eyes swept to Bulma, and a grin split his face.

"And hellooo," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

"So then, according to the scouter, it looks like this band of weaklings is the best this planet has to offer. I suppose I can see how Raditz was defeated," the short one with the spiky hair remarked.

"Yeah, but you people shouldn't get your hopes up. Name's Nappa, and I'm several times stronger than Raditz was. And this is Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, and he's above me," the towering bald muscle man with the mustache explained.

"And you want the Dragon Balls," Tien said.

"That's correct, a wish is too good to pass up," Vegeta answered plainly.

"So give us those balls and the woman and maybe we'll let some of you live," Nappa said, raising a clenched fist.

"Nappa, don't be absurd. Bargaining is for equals," Vegeta interrupted.

"Oh, so straight to a fight, then? Let's start with these then, to see if they're really worth our time."

"Uh, what was that about a woman?" Bulma asked. Nappa gave her a look and gave a wink before driving holes in the ground with his fingers.

"Vegeta doesn't quite get it. But I know a good-looking Saiyan when I see one. And I suppose it's my place to show him a proper courtship. Afraid my pod's not very roomy, but you wouldn't be the first woman I pleased in cramped quarters," he leered.

"…A bunch of zeni for the guy who kills that one!" Bulma shouted, whipping a checkbook out of somewhere.

"Should we do something?" Yamcha asked.

"No, striking first right now would give them insight, let them tip their hand," Piccolo ordered.

"At least you're bringing out the Saibamen. If you get too distracted, I might end you," Vegeta remarked, as Nappa uncorked a jug and poured measures of a green liquid into the holes he had made.

"Of course, gotta see who's worth fighting and who's just for killing. A courtship is about display; you need to cut an impressive figure and form so the lady will be eager to bear your lineage. It's tradition," Nappa said, as red-eyed green monsters emerged from the ground.

"What are those?!" Krillin shouted.

"These? Oh, just some little cultivated lifeforms. They're approximately as strong as Raditz was. We use them as cannon fodder, as they're too weak to work as a punching bag," Vegeta remarked.

"Okay boys, you were born to kill, so get to it!" Nappa commanded.

The Saibamen cackled, and Chichi opened one of her capsules with a burst of air.

"Let's start with, one," Vegeta said. The Saibaman farthest forward took it as some signal and charged forward, cackling.

"This one's mine!" Yamcha declared, moving to intercept. The Saibaman grinned, both figurers coming to a halt as their charges descended into a flurry of blows.

"That thing is no joke," Tien remarked.

"Yeah, but Yamcha has gotten stronger," Krillin said. They winced as the Saibaman got a grip on Yamcha's ankle and with a swing threw him into the air.

"What, did you forget he can fly?" Bulma huffed, as Yamcha came back in using the sun to disguise his attack until he was on top of the alien. The punch sent the Saibaman into the air, and Yamcha ducked under it to kick it into the air and into a rock formation. The creature recovered, growling and pushing itself out of the way of Yamcha's punch.

The former bandit's heel crashed down on its bulbous head, sending it back to the ground.

"It's over," Yamcha said, charging an attack and crying out as he unleashed the energy, hammering the Saibaman into the ground.

"That wasn't a Kamehameha," Chichi commented, fetching the turtle shell she had uncapsuled. It was orange-colored and nearly as tall as her.

"Yeah, it lacks the same power, but you can fire it off quicker," Yamcha explained, as the smoke and dust cleared. He gave a small smile as he caught sight of the broken-looking Saibaman.

"One down," he remarked, raising his index finger toward the Saiyans.

"Heh, quick to feel good about yourself, eh?" Vegeta said, and Nappa smiled.

"Look out!" Chichi yelled, knocking Yamcha aside as the Saibaman sprang. The creature wrapped around the turtle shell Chichi had raised, which they saw had handles screwed to the inside.

The Saibaman made a shrieking noise as it started to glow. Chichi and Yamcha both leapt back as the shell fell to the ground, the glowing Saibaman screeching in hate.

"Idiot, it's wasting its final attack," Vegeta frowned.

"Well, it's not like they're smart, after all," Nappa said as the creature self-destructed.

Yamcha gulped.

"That quick. Chichi, if you-"

"If she hadn't kept her guard up, you'd be dead," Piccolo supplied, "This isn't some tournament. Kamikaze is a cheap tactic, but this is a life or death battle. Don't let your guard down or they'll tear you apart."

"My goodness, Namekian, you have a talent for stating the obvious. But even if it inspires these backwater weaklings, I find it boring, so let's get things moving. Attack, all of you," Vegeta commanded.

The Saibamen charged with a bestial cheer.

"Get your shield, I'll cover you," Yamcha said.

"Right!" Chichi said.

"That's enough. Gatling Gun!" Krillin shouted, leaping into the air and unleashing a charged ki attack that split and rained down on the charging aliens. Smoke and dust burst over the battlefield with the odd green limb thrown up for good measure.

"Alright, clean sweep. We can do this!" Krillin said, setting back down.

Chichi squinted in the smoke, spotting her shield, charred but not even cracked. Grabbing the rim, she started to lift it, only for it and her hand to be slammed into the ground.

"Gragar!" the Saibaman that had leaped onto her shield said, claws and fangs bared.

"Missed one," Nappa remarked.

"No," Piccolo said, as he grabbed the Saibaman by the wrist as it nearly slashed Chichi's face and tossed it into the air. Firing off a purple mouth beam, the Demon Prince annihilated the alien.

"You, when?" Chichi said, looking back to where Gohan and the others still were.

"Don't get cocky because you've gotten stronger; you still have a ways to go before you should even think of challenging me," Piccolo said, turning his attention to the Saiyans.

"Sounds like they have some issues on their side, Vegeta," Nappa remarked.

"Never mind that, it'll all be in good order when everyone of them is dead," Vegeta answered

"Pretty confident considering we just wiped out your troops," Krillin said.

"Oh yeah, we told you those things were equal to one Raditz."

"Yeah, and-"

"And I'm equal to five Raditzs, and Vegeta here is equal to fifteen," Nappa said.

"…Oh, fudge ripples in the Alps," Bulma said.

"Why are you even here again?" Piccolo remarked.

"Obviously because with Kakarot dead she's looking for a new mate," Nappa said, stepping up, "And now that we've established you guys are really worth fighting, I can get to some serious courting. Watch closely, Vegeta, this isn't the sort of thing I will do a second time for demonstration. It's serious business."

"Awesome, I didn't get to fight one of the green guys so he's mine!" Boxer said, sprinting out from the group. Bulma made a choking sound as Nappa grinned, rushing to meet him.

"Hey kid!" Krillin yelled.

"Crap!" Yamcha shouted.

"You got stones, kid! Let's see what you've got!" Nappa said. Boxer leapt and punched Nappa square in the cheek.

"Ha!" Boxer said. Then he realized Nappa's head hadn't even moved, and fell back to the ground.

"That it? Well, my turn then," Nappa chuckled. He chambered a kick, and then Boxer was flying, Piccolo in his place as he evaded the kick and thrust out his hand.

"Huh?" Nappa said, as he dodged the attack.

"I'm your opponent, big guy," Piccolo said.

"Fine by me, I need to show her what I've got," Nappa said.

"NOT HAPPENING!" Bulma yelled.

"Well, of course not yet, I've barely started. Women, eh? So impatient," Nappa said.

"I really don't feel like I should say anything to that."

"Oh yeah, no penis; bad luck that. Now die!" Nappa yelled, throwing a punch. Piccolo caught the blow in a block but was still blown back.

"Krillin, we need to back him up. Chichi, protect the kids," Yamcha said.

"Hey, I saved your life. But I was going to do that anyway, so fine," Chichi snapped.

"Tien?" Chiaotzu asked.

"Not yet, we need to play the long game. The other guy's even stronger," The three-eyed man said, daring a look from the fierce battle that had risen into the air to the smaller Saiyan.

"I'm not done yet!" Boxer yelled.

BONK

Boxer grunted, eyes wide, with Chichi's shield slammed down in his head. The woman herself scowled as he lifted the shield back up.

"Don't get in the grownups' way, brat," Chichi huffed.

"Boxer? Hey!" Bulma objected, before her son was thrown into her. She reflexively caught him, and Chichi turned back to the fight as Nappa blocked two kamemehas and headbutted Piccolo.

"Gohan."

"Mom?"

"I want you to be ready to run if this all goes badly."

"Oh, you hate this, hairless woman?" Nappa asked, popping through the formation.

"Then let me brighten your day!" the Saiyan shouted. Chichi raised her shield, blocking the punch. She was sent flying into a rock formation, a crack running down the turtle shield.

She grunted as Nappa pulled the shield out of her grip.

"Nice toy, but if you were betting on this…"

Holding it in his hands, he put pressure on it, and after a moment of popping the shield snapped in half.

Glancing behind him, Nappa smiled and whirled, throwing the shield shards and nailing Krillin and Yamcha. Chichi screamed as the third projectile, colliding wth Piccolo, who swatted her aside.

"Heh, yeah, make it look good," Nappa said, striking a stance as Piccolo engaged him.

**X X X**

"Chichi, come on, we need everyone we've got," a man was shaking her.

"Oh Goku, it's not breakfast time yet," she replied unsteadily, hooking an arm around her shaker's neck.

Her vision cleared to find her holding Yamcha's face to her cheek.

"GAAAHH!" they both screamed.

"What? What?!" Chichi said, looking around frantically, back on her feet.

"Tien lost his arm to that monster and Chiaotzu self-destructed. But that Saiyan isn't going down. Gohan snapped or something, and that seems to have hurt him… We're losing, Chichi, at this rate even if we wear this guy down his buddy will just step in and wipe the floor with us," Yamcha told her. Looking over the battlefield, she realized it was true; only Krillin and Piccolo seemed to still be in the fight.

"Listen, I need you to get in there," Yamcha said, pointing to themselves.

"Wimp," Chichi said plainly.

"No, I need the other one fully distracted. I'm going to try and take him out when his guard is down. Even a more powerful foe can be beaten if taken by surprise, right?"

"Even with this?"

"We need to try something else or Earth is doomed."

"Okay then, good luck."

**X X X**

Yamcha had slipped away and now was behind Vegeta, a good distance, and barely in his line of sight. It would have to be enough.

He wasn't sure why Goku was taking so long to resurrect, but he had to play this as if his friend wasn't coming back. Raising a palm toward the sky, he grabbed the wrist with his free hand.

If he could take Vegeta out…

He had to put everything he could into this, like Tien with the kikoho. But more focused, more precise.

A weapon to kill the seemingly unkillable. His super spirit ball formed, then shrank down to the usual size, sweat running down him at the effort as the condensed energy glowed golden and sparking.

"Spirt Fastball," Yamcha said intently. He threw the ball of deadly light, steering it through all the obstacles even as it picked up speed. Heading towards the back of Vegeta's head.

"Die," Yamcha wished.

The ball smacked into the palm of a gloved hand.

Lowering his hand from the back of his head, Vegeta turned, looking around with a grin.

"Is this some combination game of catch and hide and go seek? That actually sounds a bit fun. Guess it's my turn now," the Saiyan chuckled darkly.

"He, he can hold it?! How?" Yamcha gasped. The Saiyan grinned maliciously as his own energy poured into the ball, making it swell again as he lifted it over his head. The battle with Nappa stopped as all participants took a moment to look.

"Catch," Vegeta said. He threw the new attack, letting it careen effortlessly through the landscape, straight toward Yamcha.

"Hurry Gokuuuu!" Yamcha yelled, as the attack collided with him, and he was lost in the explosion.

**X X X**

"Now Yamcha too," Krillin moaned. They needed Goku; it was taking everything they had just to keep this Nappa at bay.

Chichi leapt back and fiddled with her pockets.

"Gone?! No, nononono! I must have lost it at some point! When, where!?" Chichi said, before noticing Bulma helping Gohan sit up next to a still downed Boxer.

"Bulma's selfishness," Chichi muttered, an idea lighting in her head.

"Bulma, give me your beer!"

"I get it, but do you really think this is the time?!" Bulma said, as Boxer blinked awake.

"Where?!" Chichi demanded, stomping the ground hard enough to make it crack.

"There!" Bulma said, pointing. Chichi followed and saw the six-pack, one unopened, intact bottle still in the cardboard.

"Mom, something happened earlier…" Gohan said.

"Hush, honey, I'm going to keep you safe. Just, don't watch, okay?" Chichi said. Running over to the six-pack, she grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap off, upending it to drain the beer.

"Piccolo," she said, glaring at the Demon Prince as he fought his losing battle against the Saiyan, "Saving you is not something I want, you stole and have tried to corrupt my son. You and that woman. But these Saiyans, I can't let them have their way. You'd better not waste this."

She pulled the paper seal out and took a deep breath, looking from Nappa to the ugly brown bottle.

"You two, get ready to get clear!" she yelled, "Bulma! I need you to hold this!"

Bulma walked over, clearly confused as Chichi shoved the bottle into her hand and the bottle cap into the other. Bulma noticed the paper seal on the bottle and paled.

"Are you…?" Bulma asked, but Chichi was looking away, falling into a stance. Breathing regularly as energy built up, she moved her arms and hands in the signs, her focus zeroing in on her target. She watched him sending Krillin into the ground, and one of his energy attacks connect and send Piccolo crashing into the stones.

"Okay then!" Nappa said, catching sight of Chichi, "Looks like only one obstacle left, then I get can get started on expanding the ranks of the Saiyan race!"

"They're not even dead yet, Nappa," Vegeta told him.

"Eh, minor detail. Between this fight and that pretty thing trembling in excitement, my patience is just about up."

"Well at least kill that woman, looks like she's trying something."

"Oh, final showdown, is it?! Go ahead, you Earthlings haven't been able to do much of anything to me!" the giant Saiyan roared, charging down from the sky, oblivious to the cracking ground and swirling clouds.

"MAFUBA!" Chichi yelled in answer, thrusting her hands out. Green energy exploded out from her. Nappa slowed in the air, stopping mere feet from the women.

"Huh, it doesn't even hurt? What- Agh!" Nappa muttered, before the green energy jolted into motion, becoming a cyclone around the two women. Nappa screamed in confusion, his form seeming to stretch inside the cyclone and he scratched at the energy around him. Bulma watched as he seemed to blow away into the greater mass of energy.

Then Chichi jerked her hands, and it all condensed into a stream, following the point of of her fingers. Wincing, Bulma held the beer bottle out and fell to her knees at the force of the impact. Squinting and turning her face away from the heat and brightness as the technique siphoned past her into the vessel, she tried to keep her eyes on it.

Suddenly it stopped, and on reflex Bulma slammed the cap on the bottle and twisted hard.

The bottle shook for a moment, then grew still in Bulma's hands, looking normal save for a certain murkiness.

"Mom, you did it!" Gohan cheered.

"Wow!" Boxer said.

"Chichi," Krillin whispered, getting up, eyes wide at what he had witnessed.

"Gohan, don't look…" Chichi panted, pressing a hand to her chest.

"Hey, wait!" Bulma shouted, panicky, as she caught Chichi from falling forward. The woman took two ragged breaths, made a choking sound, then went limp.

"Did she just die from that? Huh, so you have to stoop to the levels of Saibamen to win? I'm not sure who's more pathetic — you lot, or Nappa for losing," Vegeta said, finally stepping onto the battlefield.

"She's… she's not dead!" Gohan shouted, running toward Bulma and his mother's corpse.

Bulma cried out as the still warm body was jerked out of her grip. Holding the cadaver by the neck, Vegeta made a thoughtful sound.

"Hmm, yep! Downright cadaveriffic. Though too tenderized for my tastes. Oh well, that's just how the enemy lines crumble sometimes, isn't it?" the Saiyan said, before tossing the remains casually aside.

Bulma couldn't even gulp as the Saiyan walked toward them. This was hopeless without Goku, wasn't it? Gripping the bottle holding Nappa, she bared her teeth. Yamcha had been right — they'd beaten Nappa, but now the biggest threat was just going to sweep them away.

"Blast it," she snapped.

"Bulma, I'll buy you some time," Krillin said. Bulma blinked, noticing the warrior. The boys looked to the battered short man as well.

"Krillin, you can't beat him alone," Gohan said.

"I know that! I couldn't even beat Nappa, with Piccolo fighting with me even! So yeah, even if they were lying about how much stronger Vegeta is… Doesn't matter. You do what you can to get away until Goku shows up. I'll get you what I can for a head start. Destructo Disk!" Krillin yelled, charging up his spinning sharp ki construct.

"Cute," Vegeta said, not even breaking stride.

"GO!" Krillin commanded, whether to his friends or the attack as he threw it wasn't clear. Gohan grabbed Bulma's hand and practically dragged her off, and after a minute's hesitation Boxer followed. Krillin kicked into the air, following his attack.

Vegeta dodged to the right, letting the attack pass him, and caught Krillin's follow-up kick on his forearm.

"How dare you mock Chichi?! She gave her life to protect everyone!" Krillin demanded.

"And what a senseless thing to do, since in less than a minute everyone she protected will be dead anyway," Vegeta said, smiling. He pushed Krillin back and, with a quick-charged ki blast, blew the martial artist to the side.

Like a blur he appeared, blocking the path of Bulma and the boys.

"Enough!" Boxer yelled. Throwing himself forward, he charged the Saiyan, who rolled his eyes and struck out with a kick. The boy stopped flat, eyes widening from the blow. Grabbing his spiky hair, Vegeta wound up and tossed him hard into a charging Gohan, sending them both smacking into Bulma. The afroed woman barely kept the Nappa bottle from hitting the ground as she was slammed onto her back. Vegeta stopped and raised a hand, ki sparks starting to form in it.

"You know, getting a bit closer, maybe I can see what Nappa was on about. But that woman managed to pull off a strange sneaky technique. Not worth the risk of leaving you around. So it looks like the Saiyan population is about to drop to one," Vegeta said, charging his attack.

"Goku…" Bulma whispered, pushing up and shoving the boys behind her. Watching the Saiyan charge his attack, eyes calm with murderous intent, Bulma spoke, "Each of you go a different direction. Don't stop for anything at all."

"No!" They said together, trying to force their way back in front.

"Do it!"

The attack fired and time seemed to slow to a crawl.

Bulma suddenly wished she had bothered to ask the others what it was like to die. And that she had been trained so she could do something now.

A figure appeared in front of the deadly light.

"Mr. Piccolo?!" Gohan shouted.

Hands extended, he took the blast head on and stopped it. Screaming out as he was pushed back, making trenches with his heels, she watched as the power broke, dispersed or something, and with some kind of pop was gone.

"He did it," Boxer said. Bulma shook her head slowly as the Demon Prince stumbled and sagged, falling to his back in front of them.

"Mr. Piccolo! Why?" Gohan demanded, running to his side, Boxer not far behind and Bulma numbly standing over them. She wasn't sure about how his body looked, but with all the burns and open wounds, she was pretty sure…

"Can't say, just didn't seem like there was anything else to do," Piccolo said. He smiled — not a smirk, not a grin, but an honest smile came to his face looking at Gohan. Bulma was stunned at it despite everything. So, as she had suspected, the Demon Prince had the heart his father lacked after all.

And them another warrior was gone. The Demon Clan extinct and no one would rejoice over it.

"My goodness, you three are quite good at getting others to die for you. Pity you seem to be out of meat shields. But tell you what, I'll make it quick and painless if you tell me where I can find those Dragon Balls."

"Heh heheh. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Bulma cackled, shoulders bouncing, making Gohan actually look up from weeping over Piccolo's corpse.

"Have you gone mad, woman?" Vegeta asked.

"Not yet! But you just screwed yourself over, you blood junkie! Only the only other one of Piccolo's kind could make the Dragon Balls, and the Dragon Balls only have power so long as their creator lives. And he was life-linked to the man you just killed! You wanted the Dragon Balls? Well, you may as well have smashed them with your own hands! Whatever you do now, you won't get what you want!" Bulma shrieked, grinning like a lunatic.

"What, but! That's!" Vegeta sputtered, eyes darting around.

"Looking for someone else to blame? TOO BAD! HAHAHAHA!" Bulma cackled.

Growling, Vegeta lifted a hand and started to charge an attack. Then stopped, glancing to the side.

"And you are?" Vegeta spat. The children and Bulma turned to look too.

"Goku. Sorry I'm late," Goku said, kneeling down next to Krillin and slipping a senzu bean into his mouth.

"Tien, Piccolo, and… Krillin, did you get a girlfriend?" Goku asked, looking over the corpses on the field before settling on the woman.

"Goku, that's-" Krillin began as Goku flew over to make sure the stranger was beyond the bean's help. Flipping her over to face up, he gasped.

"Chichi? I see. You came here for Gohan, didn't you, because I wasn't here to protect him. Looks like you trained hard. We must have just missed each other on being dead and alive. You're probably angry about that," Goku said, kneeling by his wife.

"Ignoring me isn't the best idea," Vegeta said.

"Did you do all this? I thought there were supposed to be two Saiyans."

"Huh, oddly enough, I haven't killed anyone yet today," Vegeta remarked, seeming a bit surprised at the fact.

"It was the Mafuba, Goku. She sealed the other Saiyan in a bottle to buy us time," Krillin said. Bulma held the bottle up a bit. Goku nodded.

"Master Roshi called that a hero's technique, it's done for the sake of others. Now it's my turn."

"One moment. It's pretty clear you care about these weaklings, Kakarot. And you surely realize how unlikely it is they will survive if we go all out here. So why don't you hand over that bottle and we can go somewhere else?"

"So you want your friend back?" Goku asked.

"I promise you he won't hurt any of your friends, or anyone on this planet in fact, if you hand it over."

"Bulma," Goku said, walking over to her, holding out his hand.

"You actually trust him?" Bulma demanded. Gohan grabbed his dad's leg, sobbing, and Goku patted his head with his free hand.

"If he values his comrade's life, he has to have some decency. And this is going to get messy — even fixed up with senzus, I'd rather all of you stay out of it."

"You'd better know what you're doing."

"Of course he does, mom, he's Goku!"

"Well, that's true," Goku said with a smile, gently pushing Gohan aside and taking the bottle.

"Here ya go," he said, tossing the bottle in a high arc toward Vegeta.

The Saiyan grinned and thrust a hand out. The ki blast shattered the bottle, exploding wildly.

"WHAT?!" the Z Warriors and Bulma shouted as blood and burning pieces fell from the sky. Nappa's head landed in front of Goku, sightless eyes staring in surprise, rolling to a stop near his feet.

"There, promise kept," Vegeta laughed.

"Why?!" Goku demanded.

"He lost to the weak. A disgrace of a Saiyan like that, I'd say I let him off easily as a reward for his long service."

"Okay then," Goku said, meeting Vegeta's glare with his own, "Let's go."

Then they were gone, but not too far, Bulma thought.

She refused a senzu bean, she wasn't that beat up.

_Later_:

Bulma knew it was stupid to follow. What good could watching do now? Goku was here — everything would be fine, or he'd fail and they would all die. If anything, wouldn't she be a distraction? Why was she even here, really? She didn't belong on the battlefield.

'You didn't belong on that first quest, either. Just a stupid, shallow girl wanting to wish for a boyfriend cause you were too afraid of failing at doing it the normal way.'

She was a mother who couldn't protect her son. Piccolo had judged her as not worth his time. Had he been right to dismiss her plans for him? Was she just a girl still playing at something that should be serious?

She should just run and hide and let Goku handle it.

Maybe it was Krillin, the boys, and even Yajirobe, heading into it, knowing they were outmatched. Or maybe it was just hating that voice in her head and wanting to prove it wrong. To show that for all her faults and the fact she would probably go back to ignoring them, she deserved to be part of this crazy thing called her life.

Or maybe it was just a drumbeat of anger shaking her bones, demanding she answer this threat, this challenge, and that dying was less of a problem than just meekly turning her tail.

So she had scrambled around, surprised at how quick and enduring she was. Scaling rocks without a boulder on her back was cake. Following the battle more than she expected as Vegeta and Goku clashed.

But now it seemed hopeless.

The Great Ape, a monster from her nightmares. Goku, a sweet naive boy, had become a rampaging monster. Vegeta wasn't just stronger, he was in control.

'Because he was already a monster,' Bulma thought, Nappa's severed head floating in her mind.

Goku was losing. The others had done what they could but Vegeta, he was destruction.

"Mom, he'll make it."

Bulma almost stumbled from her perch on the rocks; Boxer had snuck up on her. He was roughed up, Vegeta had sent him flying earlier. Gohan had lasted longer, and lost consciousness. She'd stashed him back there using some of the first aid capsule to patch him up quickly.

A scream brought her attention back to the battlefield.

Goku. The Great Ape had him in its grip, laughing with malice as the Earth's champion cried out in agony.

"Boxer, take Gohan away, and don't follow me," Bulma said, face setting.

She didn't listen for an answer. She wasn't going to give herself time to talk herself out of it.

Bulma raised her face skyward and found the daylight full moon. It had worked for Goku in that tournament, and it had worked for Vegeta apparently, so it-

Thoughts were drowned out as the moon seemed to fill her mind. Like a taste as you guzzle a drink, only it was through her eyes.

Filling her up. Then, igniting.

**X X X**

Goku had never been much afraid of dying. Even before reuniting with his Grandpa at Baba's place, it seemed like as bad as dying might be, being dead was not that big of a deal. Like moving to a place you couldn't return from or get visitors normally.

Besides, everyone died, right? From the things he killed to eat to strong people like his Grandpa, your time eventually comes. But, even so, when people kill… Like Tao had killed Upa's dad, and he didn't even want the Dragon Balls himself! All those Red Ribbon guys causing so much trouble for everyone just because they wanted a wish.

Krillin…

Goku was not afraid of dying, but if his dying meant those he loved dying, he was afraid of that.

So, as much as part of him thrilled Vegeta pushing him to his limits, and already wondering what other challenges might be out there, he was having trouble enjoying this. Because Vegeta would kill them all, and there were no more Dragon Balls to bring them back.

So it wasn't just pain he was swimming in. And it wasn't for his own sake he wished Krillin's Destructo Disk had connected.

And Vegeta wasn't even enjoying this right! It was like he preferred the pain and killing to the actual fight. Goku met some weird people in his life.

And things only got weirder when a giant ape with an afro tackled Vegeta.

"WHAT THE?!" Vegeta yelled, dropping Goku.

This was not a match, it was a battle for everyone.

**X X X**

Vegeta slammed Bulma into the ground, the other giant ape struggling vainly to get up before Vegeta's kick sent her rolling.

"FOOL! OOZARU MAY INCREASE YOUR POWER, BUT RELATIVE TO MY TRANSFORMATION YOU HAVEN'T GONE ANYWHERE! YOU AREN'T EVEN STRONG ENOUGH TO CONTROL THAT FORM! NOW DIE!"

The breath blast he was charging rocketed skyward as the transformed Boxer threw all his weight and momentum into Vegeta's ankle.

Vegeta was fast though, so fast. He managed to twist around, controlling his fall and grabbing the relatively small Boxer ape.

"BRAT! I''LL-" he was cut off as the transformed Bulma ripped a small mountain off its foundations. Leaping into the air, she slammed it into Vegeta's face as he turned to face the threat.

He staggered under the impact and, roaring, charged through the raining rubble of broken rock to punch Bulma in the snout. Boxer still in his grip, he threw the smaller ape into Bulma, knocking them both down. Jaw glowing, he somehow talked around the blast.

"NOW BOTH OF YOU JUST DIE!"

"Hiyaaah!" Yajirobe shouted, leaping from the ruined landscape, sword drawn, and sliced through a massive tail.

"AGH! WHAT?! WHO?!" Vegeta cried out, attack dispersing as he turned.

Yajirobe made tracks, his legs a blur as Vegeta took steps after him but bent over in pain, already shrinking, fur disappearing.

"MY TAIL! HOW dare you!? You fat bastard, I'll…" Vegeta gasped, turning back into his normal size, looking as injured as he had before he transformed.

Gohan put himself in the alien's path, making sure he couldn't go straight after Yajirobe. Vegeta grinned with a mad edge.

"Oh, how cute! You think you can stop me now?"

"No, but maybe that can. Bye!" Gohan said, pointing before leaping off into the broken landscape.

"Huh?" Vegeta said, turning around just before Oozaru Bulma's foot hammered down on top of him.

**X X X**

"Of all the!" Vegeta grit his teeth in fury, blood flowing from his mouth as he finally gained the skies. The weakling excuse for Oozarus were rampaging below, roaring up at him.

With his tail gone, that boost made them more potent compared to him than he would like to admit. The woman had more strength than he expected for not being a warrior either.

Still no match for him, of course! But he couldn't play around or just go overboard. He needed to find and make that fatso suffer. And Kakarot. Yes, he needed to deal with this annoyance so he could get to work. Glancing around in thought, he noticed the moon hanging there in Earth's sky. Fueling those weaklings.

"Heh, consider this a preview, Earth," he said, charging a blast. The energy surged forth and he grinned wide as the Earth's moon exploded.

He casually descended to the ground as the two weak excuses for Saiyans shrank back to their pathetic selves. He landed by the woman, naked with her hair frazzled and back on the ground.

"Hmm, under other circumstances, I might take a moment to savor such a sight. But you made the fatal error of earning my anger. Though I suppose even that much acknowledgement is an achievement. Now die!" he said, thrusting a palm toward her as he charged the Gallick Gun. Eyes darting to the side, he lifted his free hand and caught the other brat's punch in his palm. It sent a surprising jolt of pain up his arm.

"And what was that? An attack?" Vegeta mocked, hiding the discomfort.

"A distraction, you psycho!" Gohan yelled in his face, as Yajirobe slashed across Vegeta's back, blood spouting from the gash carved as the armor parted before the blade.

Screaming in pain, Vegeta turned, blasting Gohan away with the incomplete attack and kicking Yajirobe into the rocks with the same motion.

"You! Insects! How dare you! All of you! I am the Prince of all Saiyans! You won't just die! You will suffer! For! This!" Vegeta yelled, punching Yajirobe's helpless form.

"Hey, Vegeta!"

"Goddamnit Nap- Huh?" Vegeta said, looking up from his punching.

Kakarot greeted him with a smile, looking far fresher than a Saiyan on death's door should.

"Why don't we finish our fight?" the other Saiyan asked.

"Oh, we'll finish it alright. In fact, I'm going to go ahead and finish this whole world! The money for selling it won't make me nearly as happy as rendering this spot on the charts an asteroid field."

"That's odd, you seem to keep getting beat up for all the bragging you do."

"DIE!"

**X X X**

Bulma woke up to her body hating her. It felt like she had pulled every muscle from her toes to her scalp, and her bones weren't too happy either.

'Blast it Piccolo… oh right, he's dead,' Bulma recalled. Forcing her eyes open, the bluenette sat up and took in a devastated scene. If this wasn't a wasteland before they got here, it certainly would be worthless now. Well, except maybe for gravel?

She spotted Boxer laying naked not far off, groaning and bruised.

Bulma got to her feet and slammed back into the ground. Growling, she crawled over the ground to her son and flipped him onto his back. Breathing regularly, limbs didn't seem too broken. Alive, okay, now Gohan.

Where was Gohan?

Going up on her knees, she looked around and saw something downhill from them. A metal sphere thingy was descending. Wasn't that lovely, she thought.

Wait, Vegeta?!

She spotted him lying near where the pod was descending, and Goku — crap beaten out of him — not far off. Vegeta looked deadish.

"Frackinmurdhobostyupihair," Bulma grumbled, crawling/dragging herself down the slope, passing Yajirobe and grabbing his sword from where it lay. Reaching the base of the slope, her head felt a bit clearer and she got to her feet, using the katana as a walking stick.

As Vegeta fell into the seeming space pod, she spotted Krillin approaching. He stopped in his tracks, mouth gaping.

'Oh yeah, naked. I'll have to charge him for that later,' Bulma thought, before slamming her free hand down on the edge of the capsule. The one eye of Vegeta's that wasn't swollen shut widened in surprise.

When she lifted the sword, the surprise got a little something extra in it. As much as her bloodstained face seemed to creak in protest, she grinned at him.

"Leaving? You started this party, bastard. You don't get to crawl away when they had to die for your stupid wish. Tien, pale kid, Yamcha, and even Piccolo! Even Chichi's dead! And you don't crawl away when you hurt my boys," she growled, starting to lift the blade.

"Wait, Bulma," Goku said. Bulma didn't turn, because she was worried her neck might break, as stiff as it felt.

"Guh?" she asked Goku, coughing more than talking.

"His pride's been destroyed; letting him live with that is worse than killing him. And he has no reason to even come back with the Dragon Balls gone and his friend dead. If he can't fight anymore, you'd be no better than him," Goku said.

Bulma hissed, and the blade fell back down to her side. Vegeta gave her a one-eyed mocking look to meet her furious glare as the capsule lid-door-thing slid shut.

As it lifted out of sight and vanished, Krillin stepped up to her, his gi off and a hand firmly over his eyes.

"Wow, Bulma, I can't believe you let him go after all he did," he said, offering the gi to her. The katana clattered to the ground.

"Let him go my aching feet! If I hadn't lost all feeling in my arms just now, I'd have made him into sashimi and eaten him with steak sauce! Mmm, going to lie down now, no sexual harasssssmeh," she slurred, swaying on her feet. Darkness took her vision before Krillin caught her in his arms.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Well there you have it. Fighting is not easy to write in general, and this franchise is particularly hard. Watching the original anime fight for inpsiration again was a bit intimidating. Truly classic, a high standard to live up too._

_Sadly, I couldn't think of much in the way of a good deviation for the Crane duo. But as a Yamcha fan I was pleased to give him a plausible better death and set up for his role in the larger story. And I am pleased with Chichi and Bulma's roles here. I think I managed to give them roles that were impactful and believable at this level._

_But of course as one arc closes another opens, to Namek!_

_First though I have something special to attend too and I'm not sure how long that will take too update. In the meantime I hope this chapter was enjoyable!_

Stay safe out there, and please try and be considerate of others; the last thing we need is to be hostile to each other in times like this.

_Long days and pleasant nights to you all!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Dragon Ball Z.

_Betaed by:_ Zim'smostliyalservant, Trackula, & Phillip

* * *

**Chapter 7**

_Getting Back Up_

The cleanup was a somber matter. The sheer shift from the violent desperate struggle to the exhausted calm cast a certain eerie feeling across the scarred wasteland.

Krillin moved Bulma to near Goku, and then Gohan brought Boxer over. They got a first aid kit from Bulma's ship to dress their wounds some. They also brought Tien's corpse… and Chichi's.

There wasn't enough of Chiatzou or Yamcha left for them to gather anything of them. Piccolo… well, Gohan insisted on covering the body with rocks. Krillin wouldn't mind leaving him to the scavengers, honestly — maybe he had a change of heart, but Krillin couldn't help but think of him at best as an ally of convenience, his own more than theirs.

But the Turtle fighter didn't have the heart to leave Gohan to the task alone. By the time they were done, another air craft zoomed in. Returning to the wounded, they discovered it was the Briefs, Master Roshi, and other friends. Mrs. Briefs was crying and seemed on the verge of a breakdown over her daughter and grandson, only calming down when Boxer came to and got glomped. The Ox King just stared at Chichi, his expression unreadable before he draped her in a white cloth and tensely placed her in one of the metal coffins Dr. Briefs was rolling out.

There was no real conversation, even for the ride back to West City. The wounded were stable, Bulma waking up but too out of it to do more than demand beer and pull her son into a bear hug before passing out again. Krillin wished he smoked right now. It would give him something to do after getting his own wounds tended to.

It was only later he realized they had forgotten Yajirobe. Which may have had a role in the fat ronin's lack of enthusiasm for future team-ups.

**X X X**

"Sweetie, you really shouldn't," Mrs. Briefs said. Bulma ignored her and the aching stiffness as she got up from her hospital bed.

"I'm good to leave," Bulma snapped.

'Useless. Useless. Useless,' the thought kept repeating in her head. She had survived, but even Chichi had been more useful than her.

'Why be upset, how often did you ever make a real difference? The most you ever did was have stuff that happened to be useful.'

Bulma shook her head, growling and trying to will the thoughts away. Her mother frowned at her bandaged daughter, who looked like she'd tilt over any moment. A hand meant to steady her child's shoulder was slapped away, making her eep from the aggression as well as the pain.

Bulma did spare a guilty look for her mother before lurching out of the room, taking a moment to reach out and brace herself on the doorway. Her plan was to follow her gut and any signs of a disturbance to find the others. When that didn't work, she just asked her trailing mother.

Ah yes, those were definitely Goku screams Bulma concluded, turning into the hallway where the other battle survivors were waiting. Her mother draped a coat over her hospital gown around her shoulders. It occurred to Bulma her tail had been swinging pretty freely.

"Thanks," she said to her mother, before walking carefully over to the others. They were banged up worse than her, but looked to be taking it better. Did she really suck that much? Well, she wasn't a fighter. She was… not much of anything in that battle, was she?

Seeing Gohan looking like he was about to bolt or cry at his father's screams and Boxer looking uncomfortable, Bulma ran a hand over her afro before fixing a glare on her porno-reading father, a morose Ox King, and Krillin.

"Why are the boys here?" she demanded.

"Uh, because we're waiting?" Krillin said.

"They don't need to hear this," Bulma grumbled. Turning to the door, she banged on it loudly until a surprised-looking nurse opened it.

"Hey, is he dying?" Bulma asked.

"N-no, actually-"

"Good enough. Boys, we're getting something to eat. I'm hungry, and clearly these guys can't be trusted with children," Bulma declared, seizing a hand each from the boys and pulling them onto their feet.

Letting them go once the coast was clear — Gohan was following despite his protests — Bulma's gait slowed as she felt a springy feeling rocking around in her skull. A large finger pressed down on her shoulder, steadying her.

She looked back and up to see the bespectacled face of the Ox King.

"I can carry you if we need to. They don't need another scare," the massive man said.

Soon enough, and thankfully without the big man having to carry her like a sack of potatoes, they were seated in the cafeteria, with the Ox King sitting quietly while the rest of them ate. He didn't speak up until the boys were gone.

"…So, you were there, right?" Ox King said hollowly.

"Yes. She was stronger than I ever thought she could be. She saved Yamcha and she took down that giant Saiyan. She was… worth more than me in that fight."

"I'd rather she was useless in the fight and be alive."

Bulma didn't know what to say to that. What was he even thinking, glancing at her? Was he wishing she had died instead? Did he hate her as some kind of home wrecker like Chichi? Was he worried she'd shamelessly sweep in to replace his daughter and take his grandson away?

Groaning, Bulma smacked her forehead onto the table.

"Hey! I don't think you can afford that kind of drama," Ox King raised his voice a bit for the first time.

"I'm glad grief hasn't brought the worst out in you," Roshi said. Bulma looked over, surprised the hermit had snuck up behind her. Then she noticed a draft and her mom's coat on the floor, meaning…

"YOUUU!" Bulma screamed, twirling her unjustly exposed derriere away from the perv and hammering her fist down on his head.

"I swear I didn't do it! That was a gift from the heavens!" Roshi shouted.

"Cool, a spar!" Boxer cheered. Bulma noted the boys' return, putting the coat back on, properly this time, as a balding doctor approached them.

"Er, Mr. Son is… no longer screaming and wants to see you."

_Otherworld_**:**

Dying had been unpleasant, to say the least. And Chichi was determined to not dwell on it anymore than acknowledging that fact. As it was, after all that was done it had been like that recurring nightmare she had where she got stuck for days in the line at the DMV. She couldn't leave and go home because she had no license, but she was gone so long she got fired as a mother, with Goku marrying a large ham, and Bulma would show up to laugh at her, while also being a cat and a woman. Which was quite odd, as Bulma actually was a woman.

Admittedly, standing in King Enma's line was less weird than the dream, but more boring.

A bell rang, and Chichi looked up from her spirit form. And then she found herself standing in some kind of office temple, and yes, standing — she had feet, hands, and yes, a head!

"Okay, that's everyone, isn't it?" a deep man's voice said. Taking only a moment to note the deceased friends of Goku's, Chichi turned her attention to a towering massive red ogre wearing a hat with horns. The sign on his desk declared this to be King Enma. And he was OPEN.

Chichi, stunned at seeing such a figure in person, gave a bow.

"Nice to see some respect," King Enma said, the other warriors following suit.

"Now, this unusual case is holding up the line, so I want to get this done quickly. So pay attention," the judge of the dead of Earth stated. They stood back up straight as he got out a book that must have been massive but was tiny in his red hands.

"Okay then, the outstanding request from the late Kami, Guardian of Earth, was that any and all allies of Son Goku who fell in battle with the Saiyans be given the chance to train with King Kai in lieu of passing on to Heaven. Let's see, Miss Chichi qualifies for Heaven despite some worrying trends."

"Excuse me?" Chichi said, as he flipped through the book.

"Yamcha, Protector of Misca town, former banditry and assault, but no killing of innocents. And it seems you have turned it around. Chiatzou, seems you went along with some terrible things, but retained basic innocence beyond some bullying. And while those follower tendencies played a part, you seem to have gotten on the straight and narrow. Tienshenan. Well! You have some serious sins on here. But it seems you have sincerely turned over a new leaf. With brings us to you, Piccolo Jr.," Enma said, looking from his book with a frown. The warriors all flinched, becoming aware of a presence. Turning, they saw Piccolo standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

"I suppose I should have seen that coming," the Demon Prince remarked, meeting all of their glares.

"You aren't held responsible for your father's crimes, but you had every intent of carrying on that evil legacy and murdered several people in your 'training'. You also relished killing Son Goku; even if the deed was necessary, you felt no remorse. Still, it seems you were tough but fair to the boys you kidnapped, and showed them care along with Bulma Briefs. And you chose to sacrifice your life for Son Gohan. You certainly don't qualify for Heaven; even if you were changing, it hardly amounts to a proper resolve to abandon your evil ways, much less atone. However, it seems you may be given a chance to atone yet. So I, King Enma, will consult these here who have suffered directly or by proxy from your evil deeds. Humans! Should this Piccolo receive the training of King Kai or be sent to HFL for his crimes?"

"Tien," Chiatzou spoke up, "We were given a chance."

Tien looked from his friend to glare at Piccolo, "Well, I suppose I can't say no now. If nothing else, you have proven reliable in a fight."

Yamcha let out a breath and glanced up before speaking.

"Well, it's not like you are your father. You didn't rampage all these years, and if you're turning over a new leaf-"

"I'm not promising anything. I took the blow for Gohan because I chose to," Piccolo interrupted.

"And why was that? What makes the Demon Prince decide his 'weapon' is more valuable than him?" Chichi demanded. Piccolo gave her an irritated glare.

"When I have an answer for myself, I'll share it. I'm not going to beg or plead. Make your choices and let's get moving one way or the other."

Soon, all of them were running down Snake Way. Following Enma's advice, they each went at their best pace, and soon were out of sight of one another, their only guide being a path that however twisting only went forward.

_Earth_:

Goku looked like… well, like he had been in a close fight for his life. The fact he was smiling and looking happier than any man with that many casts should look without being doped out of his mind, well that was just the Goku in the equation.

"Hey guys, you're looking well," he said, raising the hand that was only bandaged.

"Dad!" Gohan said, rushing to hug his dad. Goku actually winced a bit, but patted his son on the head.

"Gohan. That was your first real fight, I'll need to hear about it sometime. All of you, for that matter. I didn't even get to see the big guy fight."

Bulma turned to the doctor.

"What part of him would you say is least critical but still painful to the touch?" she asked the old man in glasses.

"Oh? Well, that's an odd question, Mrs. Son. Well, I suppose the right side of his chest," the doctor muttered. Not fully paying attention through her rage, Bulma nodded and walked over to the bedside.

"Bulma, that was neat with you and Boxer turning into giant apes- gagah!" Goku cried out as Bulma punched him in the sweet spot the doctor told her about.

"Don't think you're off the hook, Mr. 'spare the guy who came to kill us all'!"

"Wow, Bulma, you really have been training. That was a good punch, nice foot placement too," Goku said, voice hardly affected by the pain as he assessed her happily.

"*Huff* That would be what you focus on," Bulma remarked, stepping back from Goku and feeling the relevant bicep.

"So then, sorry I was late. King Kai and I didn't think about travel time right. Would you mind telling me what I missed?" Goku asked. There was a certain tone to him that placated Bulma; she felt as if this was his own way of asking how everyone had died respectfully. It was, she supposed, preferable to how he had flown off in a rage at Krillin's death. That had nearly gotten him killed because of her giving him the radar then.

Bulma just stood by, Boxer at her side and interjecting occasionally as Krillin took point in describing the battle against Nappa. She noted how Goku beamed at the part where Chichi had saved Yamcha. She was not pleased with how that made her feel, realizing on a certain level she had preserved, perhaps, that for all Chichi had muscled her way into Goku's life, the ox girl may have something real with him.

"The Mafuba, huh? Master Roshi called it the technique of a hero, but I think that applies to all of them," Goku concluded.

"Well, if Piccolo is gone, so is Kami. So, no Dragon Balls," Krillin remarked. Gohan tensed at that, burying his face in Goku's side.

"Well, having died properly without any of that demon stuff, I can tell you that while dying really sucks, what comes after isn't really that bad at all. Granted, I did something different from the usual going down Snake Way. But I'm sure even Tien got into Heaven," Goku mused.

Dr Briefs cleared his throat, drawing attention to the old scientist as he lit up a cigarette.

"All of which means Goku is single again," he pointed out.

"Dad, really?" Bulma groaned.

"What? He's less qualified to be a single dad than I am, and those oaths specify 'til death do us part. So really, is there any point to beating around the bush? I mean, honey, if you wanted to play the field you have had-"

"Hiiiiii," a voice called from the window.

"Mr. Popo?" several voices said in tandem. Sure enough, clad in his usual genie attire, the black-skinned stout retainer of Kami stepped off his carpet into the room.

"Hello, it's been awhile. Well, accept for you, trainee. Good job not dying like the rest," he said, turning his attention to Krillin. Then he smiled at Goku as everyone made way for him.

"Mr. Popo, if this is about me becoming Guardian of the Earth, I'm still not interested," Goku said with an edge of panic.

"Hmm? Oh, you don't need to worry about that, in particular. That was Kami's idea, and you made the right call in refusing the offer. No, I'm here about the funeral plans they may be more premature than you think," Popo stated.

"Whaddya mean? We don't have any Dragon Balls," Krillin pointed out.

"True, 'we' don't have any Dragon Balls. But Dragon Balls might still exist. But it'll be a journey whose distance will put all your other travels to shame. Kami did not conceive of the Dragon Balls from nothing. The Namekian whose name has been lost to history departed his homeworld in a mighty ship and traveled across the void to reach this planet. Among the memories he passed down to Kami and King Piccolo was the great treasure of his people, the Dragon Balls."

"Wait, so not only was Kami an alien, but Dragon Balls still exist. But in space?" Bulma asked.

"That's right. And given that Kami was going off of distant memories to create the Earth's Dragon Balls, the original may be even more powerful. Assuming, of course, that they still exist. A long journey of unknown peril, and it may be you will reach the end only to find the prize has long since crumbled into dust. There would be little shame in giving up now. You have done your part to defend the Earth, and your friends chose to lay down their lives for what they loved. Some might say it's better to simply let things be and let the wishes fade away."

"Not a chance, Mr. Popo. I may not be scared of death here, but more importantly, if we can get them back we owe it to them to try. Besides, it sounds like an adventure," Goku said.

Bulma couldn't help but smile at Goku's easy dismissal of the very idea of giving up. No anger or offense, he simply knew what he wanted to do and that was that.

Krillin nodded, his head resolved. Gohan had stepped back and looked solemn, no doubt dealing with the fact his mother could live again in the midst of his grief. And at her leg, Boxer looked starry-eyed at his hero.

"Well, how are you gong to get us to Namek?" Bulma asked.

"Actually, I'm not. It's time to show just what 'you' can do, young lady," Mr Popo said, turning a passive but commanding gaze on her.

**X X X**

A space ship. Not the man-made kind, either. Bulma felt like she'd stepped into a different genre, walking alongside the vegetation-entangled, grayish vehicle.

Space travel was something of an extinct field these days. Civilization didn't require even the whole of the Earth being under the harness to provide their quality of life, and no habitable planets were in evidence. Sure, there were plenty who wanted to boldly go, but few were really interested in investing enough in what was seen as romantic fancies or science for the sake of science.

And there was also an unofficial fear that boldly going might make something boldly follow said explorers back. Given that space had brought the Saiyans and Piccolo version 1.0, she would say the fear had merit. Goku was a baby and Kami had literally been the good half of an alien. Hardly endorsed life out there.

Brushing some vines from the alien structure, Bulma sighed. She did not want to go into space. But she would.

Part of it was debts; she owed the dead for being alive. Even if the afterlife was nice, like Goku said, their lives had been cut short and they deserved the chance to live them fully.

Another part was to look after those going. Gohan might be bright, but he was no genius to master this stuff in the quick timetable they were shooting for. Besides, Boxer was determined to get in on this adventure, and no son of hers was running off with no responsible supervision. She was not her parents!

And finally, she kept thinking about that first journey. Setting off in search of the Dragon Balls with just her case of capsules, guns, and a heart filled with dreams of boys and strawberries. That trip had changed her life.

And this creeping feeling of discontent, whispering voices in the edge of her mind… Bulma couldn't say it out loud, but she wanted to change, somehow. To be someone who would rise up from this dark cloud that seemed to be swirling around her and find that blue sky she had been taking for granted. And maybe she'd find it on a new journey, a way to change closer to that woman.

Nodding to herself, she walked to the entryway Mr. Popo had opened and let him lead her into the ancient vessel. This was not going to be easy, but she was pleased to be of use here.

**X X X**

Popo dropped her off at her house. She had needed a change of clothes and tools before she could do more than poke around the alien tech.

The good news was that, while it was advanced, it didn't seem like anything she and her father wouldn't be able to work out. Plus side of being geniuses and rich. Still, that voice response tech was annoying; there was a reason it had never caught on with the general public, spying devices aside.

Still, all they needed was to get it controllable. She knew it was space-worthy, as Popo had promptly taken her into space. As she thought, going into space was terrifying, and what was Launch doing here?

She was blue, so that was good news for Bulma getting to bed soon. But who was that other girl? Teenager, shoulder-length brown hair, too much athletic tape on her arms and baggy pants along with a tan and tank top?

No, no bells to be rung.

"Bulma! You're back!" Launch said, running to meet her. Bulma raised a hand in greeting, more interested in the stranger. The girl was giving her a glare, following Launch with arms crossed over the 'underdeveloped' chest, Bulma noted.

"Launch, girl I don't know, what are you doing here?" Bulma asked, as she took Launch's offered hands. The girl's eyes welled up with tears and she proceeded to glomp Bulma, crying into her chest.

"Oh right, you were living with those two, right?" Bulma said, late to the realization.

"And Puar told ME about Master Yamcha," the girl said, reaching them.

"Master? Yamcha? Was he putting on airs?" Bulma asked, awkwardly patting her old friend on the back.

"Airs? He was the most incredible martial artist I ever saw! He defeated the vampire clan plaguing my town single-handed. He's been training me to-"

Apparently Bulma had some pollen from her futile mountain expedition in her clothes, because the sniffling gave way to a mighty sneeze.

"Ewww, crap," Bulma cursed as Blonde Launch pulled her face away from Bulma to practically growl in her face.

"Uhhh," Bulma said. Then Launch decked her.

"Gah!" Launch cursed, holding her fist, while Bulma stumbled back a few steps. Groaning herself, Bulma rubbed the offended cheek and glared at Launch.

"What was that for?"

"You didn't even try to contact me to let me know what happened! Did you?! What the heck? And now I hear you guys are going into space to bring everyone back and not a word."

"Fine, sorry. I guess I kind of forgot about you with all that's going on," Bulma huffed. Launch seemed stunned at the idea that someone as odd and violent as her could be forgotten, while Bulma pulled out a cigarette, feeling the need for something with this much awkwardness. The teen stepped up again.

"Anyway, my name is-"

"Yamcha's student, right. I think Krillin mentioned he had one. Sorry for your loss. But I'm not exactly one for bedside manner, and I need to get to bed so I can get to work."

"Then we'll keep it short," Launch growled, "We want in on this space voyage."

"…Are you serious?" Bulma asked, taking a drag on her cigarette.

"Yes," the two answered in stereo.

"Well, the answer is no."

"What?! Why not? You're going and you're not even a fighter," Yamcha's pupil said.

"Because I'll be the pilot and engineer, dummy! And Yamcha got wrecked, so if you're weaker than him you won't be any use. And Launch, what do you even think you're going to do?" Bulma demanded.

"Well, I'd-" Launch started to yell, before Bulma cut her off.

"Let me guess, guns and violence? You couldn't even kill Goku and Krillin when they were kids! The most you ever did was beat up some goons that Roshi would have handled anyway. And got us great seats that one time. And what's your excuse? Piccolo didn't train me, he tricked me! But you, tough girl, you had years to ask for training from two of the best that the Crane School had to offer. And you manage to be even more useless than me! …You know what, I can't deal with this right now. Get off my lawn and come back when I'm not looking for a head to eat," Bulma huffed, before storming in.

The two women watched her go, before exchanging looks.

"I didn't even get to introduce myself."

"That bitch! Where does she get off?!" Launch shouted, stuffing her hands in her pockets and stamping off.

"Where are you going?" Yamcha's student asked.

"None of your business! Have a nice day!"

"…But it's night," the teen said, glancing at the sky to make sure.

**X X X**

"Well done, Bulma. You weren't even drunk or hungover for that," Bulma said, drying herself off from her shower.

"You're not an idiot, it's you that you're angry at, isn't it?" she said to her reflection. Okay, she'd admit that even with the muscles she looked great. She was just special in that way, she looked better than most people could ever hope to.

But that vanity was only a momentary distraction.

"I'm not a fighter."

"Chichi gave it up, and look what she did."

"She picked it back up. Being out there like that, it's not me."

"And you're okay with that?"

"It's not like I could catch up."

"So give up and not even try? Pfft, even Yamcha and Krillin haven't stooped that low."

"I'm the lab type, that should be enough."

"Maybe, but it's you that's feeling bad. What do you want out of all this?"

"I… don't want to be hopeless while the ones I love are at risk."

"Frack it, I'm really a mess aren't I?" Bulma sighed, resting her brow against the mirror.

Throwing the towel in the bin, she pulled on her pajamas. She'd apologize to Launch and what's-her-name next time she saw them. For now, she needed sleep so she could make sure that ship was long-term space-worthy. It didn't seem to be so far advanced she and her father couldn't learn a lot from it. Capsule Corp might be able to build its own model with what they could learn.

**X X X**

The Briefs family's hospitality was as good as ever, Krillin thought, sitting at an ornate metal table painted white in one of the indoor gardens, a sumptuous breakfast laid out that he was all to pleased to devour. While he wasn't exactly living in poverty, a lot of that had to do with him being able to cut so many costs by living off the land and being well trained to do without comforts, like heating, cooling, pepper, and toilets.

Okay, so he wasn't in the best places financially. The point was, he did have plenty of money in the bank, really, he was just saving up for a special occasion. Or a special someone…

'Great way to depress yourself while eating a breakfast worthy of a king.'

"Huh, you know, I wonder if King Furry's palace is as nice as this place?" Krillin wondered, chewing on a thick piece of bacon. The food was great, even better after hospital food.

Bulma had not been around that he had seen, fixated on that ship with her father. She seemed in a bad mood, more so than usual. Krillin wondered if she had feelings for Piccolo after all. She had fallen for Yamcha back when he was a bad boy bandit or something, and lost interest it seemed as he cleaned up his act. But then again, she did sleep with Goku, who was not the least bit bad boy… well, not on purpose, anyway.

Or maybe she felt bad that Chichi, the woman she'd stolen a march on, had died?

Krillin sighed, pushing beautiful-looking scrambled eggs around his plate. He really didn't get women, despite all he had done to pursue them. And Bulma was a woman who could change into a giant monkey. Apparently it was like an STD and she caught it from Goku or something. Weird, but Krillin had seen far more absurd things in his time.

"Krillin!"

"Krillin!" the boys cried out, running over to the table.

"Boxer, Gohan! So, all cleared from the hospital?" Krillin asked. He would not be surprised if Boxer escaped, from what he'd seen of the kid, but Gohan was a good kid at a glance.

"Yeah, and we want to train!" Boxer said, punching the air.

"Train? You just got out," Krillin pointed out.

"Please, Krillin?" Gohan pressed.

"Hmm," Krllin said, taking a long drink of his coffee. Boxer took after Goku, clearly, but Gohan didn't seem quite the type for this.

'Don't be stupid, he saw his mother die, and we may not be able to fix it for all this that we are going through. He wants to be distracted, and feel useful,' Krllin thought.

"Okay then! We'll have to go through some exercises to make sure you really are ready to train. Then-"

"Teach us the Destructo Disk!" Boxer shouted, nodding his head rapidly.

"Yeah, you even cut that giant with it," Gohan agreed, nodding just the once. They were both looking at him intently, with slightly raised fists. Both looked eager, but while Boxer seemed about to vibrate, Gohan had a certain desperate gleam to him.

More importantly, Krillin was picturing Boxer wielding the Destructo Disk. To open cereal boxes, cut grass, cut in line, remove buildings that obstruct his view…

"Well, actually, there's someone you should study under before I'm liable- I mean, can reliably train you."

**X X X**

"Okay, I'll take 'em. They're both legacies anyway," Roshi said as the boys reacquainted themselves with the island.

"Double trouble," Turtle noted, watching them.

"Thanks, Master Roshi."

"Don't be so quick, your old master isn't that generous. One Goku was bad enough for my pantry. You owe me one for this."

"Just so long as no one gets decapitated," Krillin moaned.

"I make no promises, my training has only one difficulty tract."

**X X X**

Night had fallen again, and Launch was well into her cups at a bar that had caught her eye.

It hadn't been easy to ditch Yamcha's little student. The kid was annoying her, following her around like a lost puppy that was missing its owner. She had no time to deal with that, she was busy, Launch thought, knocking back another glass and calling for another.

She hadn't sneezed once all day. How annoying; she actually wanted that wuss to tag in and she was AWOL!

"Stupid bluenette! Not interrupting when I want! Thinks she's so smart…" the angry blonde trailed off. She had drifted from one blue-haired annoyance to another.

Where did Bulma get off? She was a rich girl who could do as she liked, with a blank check for life. Both Launches had to deal with life, the wimp working hard and her stealing and fighting hard. She wasn't weak! It was just… she hadn't needed to train with those two because, with them around it didn't feel like she needed to take on the world.

"Well, that's what giving a crap gets you, isn't it? They go and die and I'm back to just me and blue," Launch growled. She could go see Goku, or the lech, but why bother? Goku would probably run off to die too, and the old man fall over dead from being an old lecher or something.

Yeah, better off just not caring, Launch thought, resting her head on the bar and fiddling with her glass.

"You look far too sad for such a lovely young woman," a man with a refined accent said. Launch shifted her head to see an old man standing next to her. He was old, looked old, mustache, bald on top, fancy grandpa clothing, and oddly long hair for his age and male pattern baldness.

"Whatta ya want, mister?" Launch slurred.

"Doctor, actually. And you were saying something about not wanting to be weak?"

"Huh?" Launch said, noticing she had taken possession of a mostly empty bottle at some point. Had she said that? She was drunk!

And that "I'm a Doctor" line. This guy wanted into her shorts, no doubt. She'd normally just draw on him and scare him off laughing. But she had to prove she wasn't drunk — weak, prove she wasn't weak.

So she got up and let him lend a shoulder, grinning as she planned on kicking his butt, robbing his house, and setting it on fire while leaving him tied naked to a tree or something.

"That'll show 'em!" Launch cheered as they entered the parking lot.

"Quite. Eleven, if you would," the doctor said.

"Eh?" Launch said. A large fist conked her head, making her eyes big as she made an urking sound, faceplanting on the ground. The doctor pulled out a kerchief and wiped his shoulder off.

"Very good, take her to the van. She's a fine specimen, and how wonderful if a friend of Son Goku's were to contribute to his demise," Dr. Gero chuckled as the hulking android picked up the woman.

**X X X**

"Mrs. Son, could you please tell your husband to obey staff instructions? At the rate he is going, he may never properly recover," the nurse said as she led Bulma into Goku's hospital room.

'I really need to correct that,' Bulma thought, waving the nurse off as she closed the door. Goku was actually lying in his bed, looking out the window.

"What, not trying to escape? It sounds like you're trying to drive them crazy with escape attempts," Bulma teased, pulling a chair over next to the bed. The bandaged man had the decency to look sheepish.

"I'm not trying to escape, I'm just getting some training in. Speed things along."

She considered telling him that was not how it worked, but the meds had probably already tried and failed. So she just patted his bandaged hand and they shared a smile.

She told him about the boys training with Roshi, and he was practically starry-eyed, recalling his own training under the old perv. Bulma was content to let him talk until she wondered whatever happened to Launch. She would have thought they'd have come to see Goku.

"Goku, how are you?" Bulma asked.

"Well, stir crazy, but you knew that. The food could be better, but it works. The doctor didn't believe me about my tail scar, silly. Why would I lie about having a tail?"

Bulma glanced at hers, lazily following behind her.

"I think everyone just assumes mine is fake. We actually made a line of fake tails you can get implanted easily with limited nerve response. It was a fad, but we still got a niche costumer pool. It comes in cat and dog varieties too," Bulma said, flicking her tail around.

"Huh. People buy odd stuff," Goku remarked.

"Seriously, how are you finding everything?" Bulma pressed.

"Uh, didn't I just answer that question?" Goku asked.

"…Goku, doesn't it bother you that your friends, that Chichi, are dead? Even if we find these new Dragon Balls… I remember when Krillin was killed," Bulma managed to ask. Her fists clenched, and it felt like cold water was splashed on her back, and her tail wrapped around her waist on reflex. She just had to know, whatever the answer was.

"Bulma," Goku said, meeting her look steadily, his stance even in bed shifting along with his tone. He was serious.

"When Krillin died, it felt like I was dying. I acted on that with rage and made things worse. It was only luck Tamborine didn't kill me, and I wasn't there to help Master Roshi and the others because of it. If I let myself dwell on the idea they might be lost forever, I will lose it, and with no enemy here to avenge them on, I don't know what will happen. So I am only going to let myself see this as something that can be fixed so I can focus on fixing it instead of lashing out."

Bulma let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. He did care. That, that was enough, she decided, regardless of how he expressed it.

"…Do you miss Chichi," she asked before she could stop herself. Goku smiled now.

"Of course! King Kai's might have had better food, but with Chichi I knew how hard she works for it, and that made it better. She puts her all into everything, that's probably why she's so strung out, I think. She washes dishes like it's a world championship! That's why I'm so excited to see her as a fighter now! We don't have too much to talk about, usually, but with her training we can spar and other stuff. Does she use an axe like her dad? I haven't really used weapons since power pole, but there's nothing wrong with that. Well, unless it's tournament rules."

They chatted on for awhile.

"Man, I only thought of those turtle shells for training. Using it for a shield seems obvious. What about as a weapon?"

"It did break pretty quick."

"Well, you could probably whip up a great one for her."

"Huh, yeah, I guess I could. Not sure she would accept it, though."

"If you made it about Gohan she probably would. She really loves the little guy. Say, do you remember what it was like being a big monkey? Because I don't."

"Uh, like I was angry at everything, but Vegeta more than everything else. And hairy. Very hairy."

"You should try training it like Vegeta did."

"Why? You get by fine without it."

"Because it's a challenge, of course! Besides, as smart as you are, you'd probably find plenty of uses for it."

It was an amiable chat, and Bulma found herself walking away feeling lighter than she had in… well, she wasn't sure how long. Glancing back at his door, Bulma decided she was letting her odd monkey boy go for good.

Oh, she'd said it plenty of times and told herself, but now she thought she'd always felt on some level it would be "nice" if Chichi was out of the picture and she could step in. But if Goku really did have feelings for Chichi, and Chichi for all her weirdness seemed to love Goku, even if it was in spite of so much about him… Well, she wasn't going to be a home-wrecker.

What those two had for a marriage somehow worked; the how and why didn't matter to anyone but them. Time to fully move on, and slot Goku firmly back into best friend, and aspire to be such a paragon of womanhood that she could seduce a magical alien man who lacked genitals!

Back to work on the ship, then. Maybe she could practice on some other green guys on her way to the goalpost when they got to Namek?

"Mrs. Son, done for the day?" the nurse asked as she passed the station.

"You're mistaken, I'm not his wife. I'm his best friend," she said with a smile, heading out.

**X X X**

Roshi was sitting on a rock smoking, as the boys worked the field, talking to each other to break up the monotony of plowing with their hands.

"I think it's cool," Boxer insisted.

"It'll be dangerous. I mean, how much trouble did my dad and Bulma get in and they were on Earth the whole time?" Gohan pointed out.

Naturally, the impending space voyage was a recurring topic between them. It certainly made Roshi feel his age. Having been across the world many times, he had felt his hermitage quite warranted, having seen much of what there was to be had. But if space was on the table… well, it made his travels feel like his strength vs Goku's these days.

Such progress didn't sadden him, of course. With Gohan the Elder only going so far and Ox setting aside the quest for greater heights, Roshi had wondered if the Turtle School was destined to fade away. That the martial arts had peaked and the world would just rely solely on the path of technology. Seeing the new generation rise to dizzying heights and surpass him was wondrous. Tienshenan in particular had been a pleasure; he had remained a good man at his core, despite Tsuru's best efforts to twist him. The Crane School was the only one of the four Sacred Animal Schools to still grow, and that seemed to have been due to them sinking to moral lows.

The fact the martial arts were advancing alongside technology, a harmony seeming to be forming…

True, the future invited peril. The dreaded King Piccolo was eclipsed by the evil that lurked in the stars, just like the heroes of old were eclipsed by this new generation. But that was the essence of change — it wasn't about some happily ever after, it was reaching new levels that would bring not only rewards but new challenges. And he would do his part to see them prepared.

These boys did not need training so much for power, they already surpassed him. It was discipline. Gohan had a hesitancy to him that could prove deadly. And Boxer was brave to the cost of sense. These exercises were meant to force them to apply their strength carefully, as well as quickly.

Roshi's thoughts turned back to his pupils, recalling Krillin's worry. Yes, Goku had been a monster of the best sort, but the ease of his great strength could be most troubling in other hands. With such great power, someone like Boxer might do great harm, even without malice. Yes, the potential was growing nicely, but with it he feared the stakes would rise to even greater heights with the power in play.

"Real deep in that fantasy, aren't ya?" Bulma said, sitting down next to him.

"WHA?! When did you learn stealth?" Roshi demanded, almost falling from his rock.

"I didn't really, you must have been having some very good imaginary harem time in that old noggin," she said, sipping from a beer he was certain had come from his fridge.

'Isn't that typical, all her money and she still steals like it was nothing.'

"That's not what I was thinking about," he objected.

"Surrreee," Bulma said, watching as Boxer turned the plowing into a mud ball fight.

"Well, I can only think of one reason you'd tear yourself away from working on that spaceship at this point," Roshi remarked.

"Yep, we launch day after tomorrow. Namek, ready or not here we come," Bulma nodded, getting up and waving as the boys happily noticed her.

'Motherhood and perhaps being forced to live harsher by Piccolo has done you good, Bulma. You've come a long way from that cutie that gave me such an unexpected present,' Roshi mused, smiling a bit as Boxer tackled Bulma to the ground. Apparently she had learned how to fall properly, and he knew enough to hit her head for that without hurting her. Gohan's happy but calmer greeting mixed well with Bulma's cordial threatening over the ruined outfit.

"Good luck up there, young 'uns," Roshi remarked.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Here we are again. Our heroes have gotten back up from their fights resolved some issues and are moving on to King Kai and Namek respectively. Next chapter though I have planned for something special._

_Yamcha's student's name is Sanctuary by the way. Though normally she just goes by Tary. She'll reappear when things get back to Earth and we get more Yamcha stuff. Incidentally if you ever wanted more Yamcha I recommend Dragonball Elsewhere. A webcomic covering Yamcha's adventures outside the focus of the Dragon Ball and Z series; well written, well drawn, and of course great fights._

_And as you can see I have taken a different approach here on what happened to Launch._

_So I guess, aside from Bulma burying any ship hopes between her and Goku, this chapter was more about planting than reaping. Oh well!_

_Long days and pleasant nights to you all! Stay safe out there!_


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Dragon Ball Z.

_Betaed by:_ Zim'smostloyalservant, Trackula, & Phillip

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_Schemes of a Snake_

_SPACE!_

Snake Way, the mystical road that wove through the cloudy skies above Hell fashioned in the image of a great serpent. From its head at King Enma's palace, one could supposedly run along its back to reach King Kai himself. A perilous journey few would undertake, and fewer still would reach the end of.

Chichi officially hated this place.

She'd thought Roshi's training was hard, but this was worse, so much worse. For one, as much as she could resent the old pervert, he was company, along with the Turtle and Oolong. She hadn't seen or heard a soul since losing sight of Yamcha. There was no day or night seemingly on Snake Way, making the feeling of being alone all the more oppressive. And the scenery, unlike the beautiful scenery of the islands, or even the sky of Korin Tower, here it was just a strange sky, the clouds below, and Snake Way. Snake Way, stretching out of sight both ways, mocking her efforts.

Every time exhaustion forced her to sleep, she carefully laid down, her shoes pointing the way forward. Even then, she kept having moments of paranoia, thinking she had gotten turned around at some point, that she would end up back at Enma's palace. Worse, that someone out of sight was messing with her shoes on purpose, making her cover the same tract of the Way time and again.

What if she'd been doing this for years? Her head stubble wasn't that much, but maybe hair grew slower in the afterlife? Did she need to eat? Had she fallen though the clouds at some point in her sleep and was in Hell now?!

She screamed as she shifted from steady jogging into full out running down the otherworld road, eyes desperately trying to spot an end, wondering if she was already out of her mind.

_Meanwhile in Kami's Spaceship:_**  
**

Bulma Briefs had been through a lot in her life. She'd had her car destroyed out from under her by a dumb boy with a monkey tail. Been nearly eaten more times than she cared to recall. Was once turned into a carrot. Nearly died in a desert. Spent a year being led astray in a workout program by a demon she had not yet been able to seduce. Had to endure both pregnancy and being a single mother while living with her shameful parents. Not to mention enduring the envy of the world for being so rich, talented, and beautiful, that even she sometimes could admit it almost wasn't fair.

In short, she had been through a lot, and felt that had inoculated her a good bit to the troubles of life.

It turned out she was not as prepared for space travel as she had hoped. Namely, that unlike a plane, as you hurtled through the void you were in for the longest haul of your life, being confined to these limited quarters. And you were sharing it with an impertinent beta male and two boys whose ages were in single digits.

How foolish of her to overlook the need for proper tobacco and alcohol stores, she thought, trying to drown the latest tiff out with headphones on. She was not even sure what she was listening to, averting her focus to the controls only to confirm yet again they were on course, and no, time had not wonderfully sped up while she wasn't looking.

"Bulma, shouldn't you do something about…" Krillin said, coming into her line of sight. He trailed off as her eyes landed upon him with all the bloodshot fury of a woman who had not slept for more than three hours straight in the last three days.

_Back on Snake Way:_

The door was a door. At least, it looked like it was a door. Chichi laid her palm, then a cheek, on it, tapping the wood as her ear was pressed to it.

The first landmark of her trip. A palace, elegant but not overly large or over-decorated, sat upon the clouds abutting this evil, stupid, vile road. Stepping back till only her fingertips were touching the door, she looked it over, half expecting it to vanish, or to wake up.

"I should keep going," Chichi muttered to herself. Her goal was the end, but she might have been getting a little… frazzled, and seeing this had calmed her down a tad. She would walk through fire to reach the end, but it might be that a break was needed, and this was a way-stop. Hadn't Master Roshi driven her to head shaving by telling her to mind her limits?

She wondered if maybe Yamcha was in there. She actually wanted to see one of Goku's friends? Maybe she needed rest more than she realized, she noted. Stepping back, she grabbed an ornate bronze ring knocker and thumped on the door.

The door swung open, and it was definitely not Yamcha on the other side. The beautiful woman beyond the door had greenish-blue skin and long, elegant ears, with short curly orange hair styled upward. Her attire was rich, a white fur boa, a grayish-purple snakeskin qipao, a pair of very beautiful long white gloves, and purple high-heeled pumps. Though Chichi's attention was grabbed by red eyes that seemed to light up at the sight of her, with the woman smiling wide.

"I had hoped you'd get here soon. And here you are, the first to arrive," the woman said.

"Huh?" Chichi said inelegantly.

"You've reached your goal, Chichi. I am King Kai, or rather that's the name they gave you. Come inside," the woman said, stepping aside and beckoning. Confused, Chichi did hesitate a bit, taking in the fancy decor of the entryway. Not seeing the woman give a mischievous smirk as she crossed and bolted the door behind them.

Chichi soon found herself seated at a banquet table piled with grand, exotic, and even downright strange dishes; were those bear hands? She had not gotten hungry since dying, but she felt her stomach churning now. They said the thanks, her and the alleged King Kai, then a plate was placed in front of her. Taking a plate and chopsticks, she started to fill a plate.

"You don't need to stand on manners here. Snake Way is quite the ordeal, not to mention dying. You must be hungrier than you've ever been," the exotic woman said, elegantly filling her own plate.

"Thank you, but the mark of good manners is holding them up under pressure," Chichi answered firmly. The woman smiled and nodded.

"Well, you did better with that than Goku did."

"…So, King Kai?" Chichi inquired warily.

"Ah, just a little deception. Mortals need to prove their worth a bit more than just running down the Way. Besides, it's a title, one made without allowance for gender, really," the hostess answered.

"But isn't it supposed to be at the end of Snake Way?" Chichi asked. Her hostess chuckled, making a dismissive gesture.

"Snake Way doesn't have an end, it loops back on itself in a manner mortals can't see if you go too far. Part of the challenge is not simply blindly obeying instructions and bothering to knock on my door. Your friends may be stronger than you, but they assumed this place was some kind of distraction without bothering to even look. Their single-mindedness has thwarted them while your wisdom has opened the path to you."

Chichi couldn't help but smile as she took her first bite. She should not be happy that the others weren't training to get stronger, but still, she was being praised as actually passing them in something. And she could appreciate that a great martial arts master was a woman. Though, looking around at all these beautiful women, and Goku training here…

"So, Goku trained with you?" Chichi asked. The woman, the um, Kai, blushed a bit and laughed like a lady into the back of her gloved hand.

"I know that tone! I could tell you marriage vows for mortals are strictly till death do you part and your Goku was not only gorgeous and endearing, but a free range man at the time. But it's also true I told him all that but he still felt he needed to honor his promise to you. You are quite fortunate. And I will be pleased to train you," the divine woman said.

"Thank you, King Kai," Chichi said with relief bowing her head.

"Uh, that's more of a working place thing. I prefer to be called Princess in my house," the regal woman said, smiling a bit forcefully.

After a brief rest in a surprisingly comfy bed, Chichi was given a uniform like one of the servants, to her surprise, meeting the Princess in a courtyard.

"This doesn't seem like training apparel," Chichi noted.

"Quite right. You're here to be a warrior, not some sort of exhibition fighter. That means overcoming petty obstacles like clothing that restricts you without breaking it," the Princess said, still in her finery herself.

"Now, dear, your first task is pouring tea."

"That sounds oddly simple," Chichi remarked.

"Prepare to be surprised."

**X X X**

After hours of trying to balance just right to pour tea from the pot on top of her head into the cup she was holding at chest height, Chichi got a break with a massage supplied for her neck by her sifu, as the Princess titled herself. Thankfully, every time the pot had fallen off and broken, the Princess mended it with a gesture, complete with the spilled tea going back in.

After some fresh tea and the massage, it was time for a new exercise.

"This one is a matter of skill in motion. Bring it out," the Princess called. Two of the servants hauled out a large scroll, and with a toss set it unrolling on the stones.

"Ohhh! Lovely," Chichi said, taking in the lines of calligraphy long as her legs illustrated on the scroll.

"Glad you think so, because…" the Princess said, grabbing Chichi by the shoulders and pulling her back with her. Just then, a second large scroll was tossed down and unrolled to reveal itself as blank.

"-you're going to be copying it until you get it right to my satisfaction," the Princess said, handing Chichi an ink pot and a normal-sized brush.

"…I think I'm going to need more ink."

**X X X**

There was more to the tasks, of course, such as jogging around a track through the clouds with a stack of iron plates half her height in each hand. Weight lifting. And of course, pushups. Pushups with a hot cauldron propped on her back, with the Princess sitting on top of the lid.

Finally, when it felt like Chichi was going to collapse, and her outfit was dripping with sweat, the Princess doused her with a bucket of ice water and called it a day for training.

"Well, let's get you wound down," Princess declared, passing the wooden pail off to a servant and taking off. She stopped and glanced back at Chichi still standing there, with the cringe posture from the dousing. The servant with the bucket poked Chichi with a gloved finger.

"Uh, is something wrong?" Princess Snake asked.

"Body's cramping everywhere, can't move," Chichi ground out through a locked jaw.

"Oh! Well, guess we found your upper limit, then. No problem, I've got just the thing," the Princess said, picking the dripping Chichi up. Blinking at the dead mortal's body still retaining the same pose as it was lifted off the ground, the blue woman shrugged and carried her off while a mop-wielding servant girl followed, cleaning up the dripping.

**X X X**

"Ahhh, this was just the thing," Chichi moaned, leaning back in the hot spring. Surrounded by a bamboo deck and fence, the steaming hot water flowed over and pooled amongst gray rocks while cedar trees dotted the area, their branches providing a roof of sorts.

Closing her eyes, Chichi lowered her mouth under the water and blew bubbles. She had had her doubts when her sifu tossed her in here so casually, but her body had loosened up before she was even close to drowned.

"Enjoying the spring I see," the Princess said. Chichi looked up with thanks on her lips, only to redden and shriek, practically flying to the other end of the pool and bouncing off the rocks there.

"Huh?" Princess Snake said, blinking. The other woman was bare as the sky on a cloudless day. The only sort of modesty being the laden tray she was holding partially covering her chest.

"Mo-modesty!" Chichi stammered.

"…Nothing you haven't seen before. Besides, I make it a point to spend time outside working with all my girls," the Princess said. Without fanfare, she slid into the water and set the tray on the surface, where it floated with no seeming problem.

Peeking over her shoulder, Chichi was relieved that the water was covering the other woman up enough for decency. Princess beckoned her over as she cupped water and doused her hair to fall around her shoulders. Chichi ran a hand over the lengthening stubble on her head reminiscently as she moved over. Careful, of course, to keep her chest under water.

Taking a seat on the rock shelf next to the other woman, Chichi watched her pour out a cup of sake and then take a teacup and pour from a twisted gourd with the word Proper Tea written on it.

"This one is for you," the Princess said, giving her the cup of Proper Tea while sipping the sake.

"It smells strange," Chichi noted, sniffing the orange liquid with its blue flecks.

"Rude," Princess Snake said pointedly, giving her a glare.

"Sorry!" Chichi said, stiffening and bowing her head. She gulped the tea down in one drink, and her eyes bugged out.

*GULP* She audibly forced the liquid back down her throat and replaced the cup on the tray.

"Refreshing," Chichi managed in a tiny voice, little tears leaking out of her eyes.

"Impressive. You're the first girl to ever not spit it right back up the first time. This tea is a key part of my training. It's made from a plant that only grows here in lands above the sky of Hell. It has the power to weaken a mortal body's limits and boundaries, letting you grow in strength far quicker than you normally could, so long as you diligently push against those limits. Of course, it's still technically poison and your body wants to reject it. But hey, no pain no gain. You'll be drinking a gourd's worth every day, even on rest days," the Princess explained, refilling the cup.

"…For Gohan," Chichi said, eyeing the all too innocent-looking steaming cup.

"Whatever you need to say, darling. Now, how about we finish off that tension with a just girls hot spring massage?"

*Kerpsalsh*

"Huh, her husband hardly noticed and she notices too much," Princess Snake remarked, pulling Chichi's head out of the water from where she fainted. Her eyes were practically swirling, and her face was redder than the spring could account for. Sitting the dazed woman down, Princess Snake crossed her arms and pouted.

"Ending this marriage won't just be good revenge on Goku, it will be a public service," she declared.

"Waga woo," Chichi moaned in her frazzled state.

"Oh, just drink this," Princess Snake snapped, pouring the Proper Tea down Chichi's throat.

The Princess was smiling again when Chichi awoke, but in taste-based agony turned back to her.

"Time for bed then, I suppose."

**X X X**

Chichi hardly remembered going to bed. Unlike before, it wasn't her own room, it was a shared room with two of the servants. She apparently slept later than them, with one of the blue-skinned women ringing a handbell, fully dressed, to wake Chichi.

"Awake then, good. Dress and wash for breakfast," the woman who had her hair in a proper bun said before leaving with her friend.

Sitting up in the simple but very comfortable bed, Chichi stretched a bit and scratched herself under the nightgown she had been given.

'Itchy, itchy, I must be allergic to something in the linens. Wait, these aren't linens, these are silk?!' Chichi thought, practically bolting from the bed at the luxury. Well, she knew she wasn't allergic to silk, so it must be something else. She noticed the dresser by her bed, as there was one for the other two. There was no other furniture in the room besides a tea table in the center with three fancy cushions and wall hangings that depicted parts of the palace or grounds.

It was a fine room, Chichi thought, using a washbasin on her face and other trouble spots.

Taking the folded uniform from a dresser drawer, she frowned at it. How long had it been since she used clothes she had not laundered herself? She supposed she'd gotten serious about such things after getting engaged to Goku. She had been determined she'd be a great wife whether he claimed she had in ten years or ten days.

Ah, the golden rosy days of youth!

Breakfast was a group affair, to her surprise. The fare was simpler, with far fewer choices, but the banquet table was larger, with what seemed the whole staff minus the kitchen and servers elegantly demolishing the dishes while passing the servings around smoothly or handing off stacks to the servers. The Princess herself sat at the head of the table, also indulging but somehow being even more subtly elegant in the doing.

Chichi felt clumsy and slow trying to keep the pace, and stared around her from her own spot.

'Where did they get all this food? Were there farms hidden somewhere, magic?'

Soon enough it was done, and Chichi got up as the plates were cleared and made her way to follow the servers clearing the table.

"Where are you going?" the Princess asked, suddenly next to Chichi.

"I should help with the dishes," Chichi said.

"Why?" her sifu asked looking confused.

"Well, it'd be rude not to, with all you are doing for me," Chichi explained.

"No. As my student, you have your duties just as they have theirs. If anything, you'd insult them by all but saying you feel they can't do their job right, and as a result you can't commit to your own duty. Now come on, after the warmup you have something new to attend to."

**X X X**

"You wanted to help? Well, you get a chance," the Princess remarked as Chichi crouched on wobbling legs.

A bowl of water, enough for a modest swimming pool, was pressing down on her shoulders, the water sloshing slightly but still having enough motion and weight to dig into her, pressing her further down into the sand she was standing on. Her left hand was steadying the bowl. The other one was holding a blue flame-baring torch to the bowl.

Chichi was already sweating from the weight and the heat from the fire, and it hadn't even been a minute since she got settled into the posture for this.

"Your task is to boil this water for lunch, without spilling any of it. Right now, you have some wiggle room, but that will vanish. As the water starts to boil, it must be even level to avoid loss. The torch is magic and won't go out or be consumed, so that is no worry. But in addition to the torch's heat, as the bowl heats up you will be feeling the burn. Well then, let's get to it!" the Princess declared dramatically, fist raised. And sat down hard on a deck chair, picking up a mixed drink adorned with fruit from a tray as a servant started to fan her.

Chichi lasted only an hour before an attempt to adjust her footing in the sand led to some spillage, at which point the Princess smacked the bowl from her shoulders, declaring it a failure.

So it was back to yesterday's routine.

And the Proper Tea still tasted terrible.

_Meanwhile on Kami's Space Ship:_

Bulma looked over what she supposed was a crew, seated on the blanket she had laid out on the ship's floor, frowning as she considered how to proceed. Gohan looked a bit bashful but had annoyance in his eyes, looking to Boxer. And Boxer was clearly in one of his "I'm right and you're stupid" moods.

Krllin… well, he wasn't the problem, so he was only here because there was nowhere else for her to put him.

"Right then, everyone and Krillin, you know why we are here," Bulma said, sitting down.

"Why do you single me out?" Krillin asked.

"Do you want to be lumped in with the children?" Bulma asked.

"Oh! So, it's a compliment. Thank you, Bulma," he said, with Bulma ignoring him and looking between the two boys. She smacked her hands together in front of her chin, holding them there.

"Okay then. Way I see it… Boxer, you've been training as best you can in here. Gohan, you've been doing some training but also some homeschool work and some young adult novels. Though you aren't a young adult. What was Ox King thinking?!" Bulma shouted suddenly.

"Uhh, Mom?"

"And Boxer is getting bored with limited training, especially with Gohan not doing duo training much. And Gohan, you want to be left in peace and train at your pace. And Krillin, I am not sure what you have been doing here this whole time."

"Well, actually-"

"Right then, as your captain, I have a solution to your bickering," Bulma announced.

"Who made you captain?" Krillin asked.

"Me. Now. Whenever you start to bicker, just go to opposite ends of the ship. And meanwhile, I'll construct a more practical solution. Meeting adjourned, you can go."

"…Go where?"

_Back with Chichi:  
_

When training with Roshi, time blurred, but the oncoming menace of the Saiyans anchored it. As did chores like grocery shopping.

For six days a week, Chichi trained. The seventh day was rest day, in which she got additional sleep and was practically pampered by the servants. She wanted to refuse the desserts, massages, manicures and such, but the women were insistent, and the housewife was frankly too exhausted to put up much resistance.

And it was hardly enough to recover for more training. No sooner did she get even passable with her giant calligraphy than it was time to do it quicker. More iron plates added to her load. And the next day, after successfully boiling water, she sat foot in the kitchen for the first time, having to hold the bowl steady as a cook used it to make strew. With the Princess even turning the ground into sand under her feet with the ultimatum of figuring out how to not sink into the sand as their weight pressed down on her.

And she had yet to throw a punch in this training, too!

At least the tea was getting better, Chichi thought, scratching at the hair on her back as she settled in for another night with the servants. It was so hard to get clean, she wondered how she managed before having other girls to scrub it for her.

The reward for fulfilling a task, was another task. Sometimes it just meant a greater burden, like more weight. Other times, it meant adding a new level of complexity, like drawing the calligraphy with her feet holding the brushes.

Chichi couldn't help but feel overwhelmed some days, as her goal seemed to draw no closer. The Princess gave no indication on her progress, how far up the metaphorical mountain she had come. Ever patient, watchful and elegant, any word of critique or praise had to be weighed and cherished as a precious clue from the enlightened to the ignorant.

The biggest clue yet in her lifetime of training came when the Princess commandeered the heating torch and instead spent the day showing her how to heat her body with ki. Once mastered, she would use this technique to heat the soup. Unlike the torch, she would have to steady the heat and as well withstand it.

At the very least, her ki already was sufficient to avoid sinking into the sand.

**X X X**

Princess Snake smiled as she waved away the fumes of the freshly made pot of Proper Tea. She was not in the kitchen, but a lab of sorts with jars of spices lining shelves and herbs and dehydrated creatures hanging from the ceiling by twine, with a tiny stone stove tucked in the corner away from a mixing table.

It was truly a powerful potion she had been making here, and with many of those capable of making it considering it unethical, a true rarity. A potion that let the barriers of one's being bend under pressure, letting a person be reshaped to a degree by their will, or to a greater degree by an outsider with a more sober mind.

This had served her well over the centuries since her marriage with Enma ended. She had grown accustomed to being treated as royalty, and abandoning her royal husband was not gong to have her abandon the good life.

At first, she had only been fishing for another man to serve her needs or a woman to add to her palace. But Chichi, she had recognized immediately from the mirror. The mortal woman who, apparently despite being parted from Son Goku by death, still kept him from her. Rejection had never been something she had been pleased with. Enma prioritized that desk of his over his Queen, so he lost her. And her initial answer to Goku's unreasoning choice was to try and turn him into a tenant of her septic tank.

But this was going to be a much better revenge. The Heavens had granted her a chance to take Goku's wife and his pride. Remade into her devoted bodyguard and paramour. She had for ages sought men and would continue to do so, but this woman both intrigued her, and she also yearned to humiliate her ex-husband and Goku with such a thing.

She laughed a high lady's laugh as she shrugged off her robe and made her way to the hot spring with the tea.

"Ah, it's so liberating to be an outlaw," she sighed.

**X X X**

Chichi had done it, she had copied all the text using only her feet. And as she watched, the last sand fell though the large hourglass placed on the stones. The attendant gave her applause and a smile.

"Very impressive, Princess Snake will be most pleased," the servant said. She tilted her head as Chichi frowned rather than join her in happiness at the achievement.

"What is wrong?" the attendant asked, stepping over while grabbing a cup and water pitcher.

"It's just… were my toes always this long?" Chichi asked. The attendant looked at the other woman's feet. Personally, she though they looked more like fingers than toes, but it would be rude to say that to a fellow servant.

"Well, you could hardly have done that task so well, if they were as short as mine. So it's better that they are a bit long, isn't it?" the attendant said.

"Well, well, well, am I to assume our admirable student finally did it?" Princess Snake said, suddenly walking up, startling the two women.

"She has, with at least fifteen seconds to spare."

"Princess, have my feet always been like this?" Chichi asked, lifting a foot as she stood up. Sure enough, her feet resembled hands more than human feet, though the thickening dark body hair crowning them was also a deviation. As was the similar darkness adorning her neck and visible arms.

"Would I ask you to do something if you couldn't?"

"Wha? No, but-"

"You can be so insecure, my student. But I suppose that is why you are here."

"Why I am here? My feet-"

"You wanted to be worthy, but knew you weren't. There's no need to worry, I accepted you as a student because I knew you could achieve what you set out to do. You only required instruction," Princess Snake insisted, tilting Chichi's face to look her in the eye. The student couldn't help but marvel at how the eyes were practically aglow.

"You need instruction to prevent these doubts from distracting you, weakening you. So as your beloved sifu, I will not let you be distracted."

"…Thank you. You're right, I need to be looking forward, nowhere else," Chichi agreed, putting her foot down as the fur finished growing in and her face shifted slightly. Princess Snake smiled and patted her on the head.

"Your hair is finally reaching an appropriate length. We'll have to style it soon. But for now, I think you have earned a reward, as recognition for having come so far."

"Oh, is it extra spa time with you?!" Chichi asked, glowing.

"Mm, I kinda miss the prudishness. The teasing is no fun like this," Princess Snake grumbled under her breath.

"Princess?" Chichi said, leaning in.

"I said, it's a tradition! Yes, for my school it's a tradition that the sensei grant you a warrior's name, showing your rebirth by dedicating yourself to a goal."

"Ohhh!" the attendant and Chichi said together, eye sparkling.

"Like when I got a new name when I became a full-fledged attendant?"

"Exactly. And for you, I pick the name, Saruyu."

"Oh? Any particular reason? Is it because my son was born with a tail?"

"You have a son?" The attendant asked. Chichi's eyes lost that sparkle as she frowned.

"Well of course, haven't I-"

"Enough dilly-dallying, it's time to tackle the next hurdle in the road to power," Princess Snake proclaimed, clapping her hands for their attention.

_Back on the Ship:_**  
**

"There we go, finished, thanks for holding the toolbox, Krillin," Bulma said, wiping sawdust off her brow with the back of her hand. Stepping back, she looked over her handiwork and pulled the cloth covering her afro off.

"So, what is it?" Krillin asked. Bulma had hammered, screwed, and pounded together wooden walls and a sliding door to section off a part of the ship's interior.

"This, Krillin, is an isolation chamber. To separate someone from this forced togetherness we have been enduring."

Krillin looked over to where Boxer and Gohan were almost for real fighting, with Boxer actually using one of Gohan's books as a bludgeon.

"So which one of them are you putting in there?"

"Whaddya mean? I built it, this is mine! Don't disturb me for at least six hours," Bulma declared, stepping inside and slamming the door.

"…How much longer to Namek?" Krillin asked the ship. It did not answer.

_Princess Snake's Palace:_

Chichi lay on the massage table, eyes closed, letting the sensation of the massage wash over her. The attendant doing the task was a favorite of hers; the others let the fur on her back throw them off, but she seemed to barely address its presence while still soothing the muscles.

"Your back is stiffer than usual. Have you been pushing too hard, Saruyu?" Callini asked.

"I don't think so, but I'm always at the brink. It's the only way to grow stronger, after all. It's just been hard to get my back in the right place, you know?"

"Not really," Callini answered.

"Yeah, I guess it sounds odd. I want to straighten up my posture, but it doesn't seem to want to. Did I throw it out?"

"You clearly never threw out your back if you are asking that."

"Callini… Do you ever feel like maybe you aren't quite the person you were yesterday?"

"No. Now stop talking, it throws things off, and the Princess will soon be by with your tea."

Chichi nodded and stayed quiet. The tea always seemed to help with this anxiety.

**X X X**

The sound of her scream was enough to almost startle Chichi out of being freaked out.

That wasn't what her scream sounded like. Was it? No, right, yes?

Her roommates were on their feet, one rubbing her head and shedding pain tears from having somehow hit the ceiling.

"Saruyu?"

"What's with the bellow?! I nearly split my head open."

"Th-th-th… THIS!" Chichi said, holding the horror in her left hand. It was a tail, a monkey tail, with black fur matching her hair and the fur visible where her night gown showed. Worst of all, it was attached to her.

She had a tail!

"That's new," her intact roommate said, stepping up, eyes wide.

"I need the apothecary," the other one said, ducking out.

"So do I. Or a knife or a saw…" Chichi said, staring at and feeling the tail. She could feel her grip on it, "How?! This can't be real! People don't just grow tails."

"I'll take your word for it. Though it does seem to fit you, I guess," the attendant said, stepping back, chin on a fist.

"Fit?" Chichi muttered. How could this thing fit her. Did it fit her hair styled into an elegant tail? Her adorable yet impractical uniform? Her well-trained hands and feet? Her lustrous, well-groomed fur? Her smart yet cute simian face?

But, wait. It might? But it shouldn't!

"It's not supposed to fit!" Chichi screamed, baring fangs and the scream giving way to a hoot that made her companion jump backwards onto a bed and crack her head on the ceiling.

"OW!"

"What's going on?!" Princess Snake demanded, throwing the door open, clad in her own nightgown.

"I have a tail!" Chichi shrieked, brandishing the appendage.

"…And?" Princess Snake asked.

"Well, I do, see?" Chichi said.

"Saruyu, I have been seeing that since you started training here. Did you really think you could somehow hide it all this time?" the Princess sighed irritably, hands on her hips as she walked up to Chichi.

"What? But, no, it's new. Isn't it?"

"You think it just suddenly sprouted? It suits you, and it always has. You are so determined to be worthy, but the greatest barrier to feeling that way is you. You may be different from us, but that doesn't factor into better or worse."

"Umm, thank you... but are you sure?"

"Do you doubt your sifu?" Princess Snake demanded.

"…No, thank you. You have helped me so much," Saruyu said, smiling, eyes alight. Princess Snake gave a kindly laugh, her hand raised over her mouth to cover the smile there.

'Well, that's it then. Another week to be sure, then I'll claim her totally,' she thought, as she saw the monkey woman to bed and escorted her injured servant to get a potion for head injuries.

**X X X**

"Saruyu, that was a good day's work for you," Princess Snake said, as she reclined in the spring next to the monkey woman.

With the change and the new hairstyle, she bore little resemblance to the shaved, hard-eyed woman that came exhausted to her door. Yes, the eyes were the same adoration the goddess of Snake Way saw in her servants. It lacked the usual satisfaction, but still a job well done.

"Thank you, I only hope to grow stronger to be worthy," Saruyu said with a smile, showing off fangs among the teeth.

Yes, it was an unexpected turn of events, the form here, but the Princess was not put off by it. She was nothing if not experienced in her long life.

"You have grown stronger. In fact, it's time you received your rewards. First, we will get rid of this," Princess Snake said, pointing to the halo over her brainwashed student's head, "Then you will become one of my subjects in truth, no mere servant, but my bodyguard ready to protect and serve me, in all ways."

"Really?! That's all I could have hoped for! A new life!"

"Truly?" the Princess asked, leaning over to look into those eyes. They didn't waver as she nodded. No hesitation. No thoughts of a son or husband, father, or a home. It seemed she had truly defeated Chichi, like so many women before.

It should be more satisfying, but she was not the type to simply back down from claiming a prize.

**X X X**

Saruyu peered through the fog, hand over her eyes.

"Where is this?" she muttered, trying to see something beyond the grass-covered ground under her feet.

A bit of fog cleared, revealing a mountain nearby. Strangely, it looked like a scoop had been taken from the top.

"What could do that?" she asked with curiosity. As it was, the fog seemed to be thinning; she could see shapes looming around her that seemed to be broken, ruined buildings. Had there been a battle? Running a hand over a dusty gash in a stone wall, she concluded that if there had been, it was long over.

Still, why was she here? She belonged in the Palace.

A child crying snapped her attention to the present. The child, a girl wearing strange armor and a stranger helmet approached her, bawling, hand to her eyes. The helmet... there was a large blade sticking out of it, it looked sharp, not merely decorative.

"What's wrong," the student of the Princess asked, uncertain how to react to a crying child.

"I DON'T WANNA DISAPPEAR!" The girl yelled, pulling hands from her face, revealing a face that gave Saruyu pause. Then the brat stabbed her in the thigh with her fingers, twisting them.

"Agh!" Saruyu yelled, catapulting up in bed. She blinked, looking around her nice single room. She was without roommates until further notice due to the head injuries.

And why was her leg hurting?

With a horrid popping noise, she pulled her fingers out of her thigh.

"…AAAAAA!" she screamed, jumping out of bed as the wound squirted blood.

**X X X**

"A strange wound. Four punctures and a gouge," the nurse remarked, tying off the bandages as Saruyu sat on the paper-covered doctor table.

"Will I be good for the ceremony?"

"Sure, just don't go jumping around."

She accepted some herbs to boil and drink later and agreed to be back tomorrow, then walked off with a slight limp. Not seeing a pattern start to form against the bandages from her own blood.

_Later_:

The only ones who hadn't gathered for the ceremony were those hard at work preparing the banquet. Seeing the throne room spruced up to its full regal glory, with the staff assembled in a pair of rows by the walls impeccably uniformed, and the Princess seated on her throne, it was overwhelming. All this to both welcome her into the palace's people in full, and commemorate her training being completed. To have earned not just a place here, but one of honor. For a moment it occurred to her it felt a bit like a wedding, but she had never been to one had she?

Then the ornate double door closed behind Saruyu and that was the signal to approach the throne.

The gong sounded the first time, and Saruyu went to one knee before the throne. At the second gong, the Princess rose from her seat of authority in acknowledgement of her.

Princess Snake started speaking her part, but the words flew over the aspirant bodyguard's head. Her eyes were locked on the sight revealed by the skirt parting in that kneeling posture — the wound had bled through the layers of binding. It was hardly crisp, but unmistakably a pattern. A circle with four dots in it.

The world seemed to darken and sound faded as she stared at the symbol.

The circle contracted, growing firm before her eyes, filling in with orange. And the red dots connected into stars. Four orange stars in a lighter circle of orange.

A boy was laughing as she watched the circle rise off her body and with a flip turn into a sphere, no, a ball floating in the air. A fancy hat grew from the base of the ball, and in the blink of an eye an adorable dark-haired boy was wearing the hat.

"You…" the woman said, voice barely audible. She reached for the boy with a trembling hand, only for him to rise into the air. She gasped in startlement, before realizing he was being held in strong arms.

He stood there, holding the boy as if he'd been there all along. A handsome man with spiky black hair wearing an orange gi. He looked so strong yet somehow his posture announced gentleness. And with soft eyes, he looked at her with a smile that said everything would be alright.

"You… I know you," Chichi said.

**X X X**

"Saruyu, kiss the ring to seal your allegiance," Princess Snake said, her hand resting in her new subordinate's. A steel vice clamped down on her fingers.

"GAAH!" Princess Snake cried out, trying to jerk her hand out, only to fall on her butt as her hand didn't even budge.

"Saruyu? You're mistaken, that's not my name," Chichi said, lifting her head as her face shifted before the trickster's eyes back to its human features and her back popped audibly while straightening.

"How?" Princess Snake gasped, as Chichi stood up, still holding her hand hostage.

"I'll be asking the questions, thank you. Ladies, why don't you go to your party? I won't be joining you, but you may as well not let your work go to waste while I have words with this Princess," Chichi said to the stunned blue women across the room.

They looked to the orange-haired woman on the floor, who gritted her teeth, only to let out a breath then laugh.

"This is grand! Yes, do go on, girls. The adults need to talk."

**X X X**

"You'll forgive me if I don't take a cup," Chichi said, hands on her hips. She stood, glaring down at Princess Snake, who was seated at a tea table, pouring a cup of steaming black liquid.

They had adjourned to a room Chihi had never seen. The walls were lined with books, and a portrait of Princess Snake — naked save for Snake Way coiled around her in a modesty-preserving style — over the fireplace. Chichi had remained silent as the orange-haired woman fixed tea at a small kitchenette in the corner, opposite of where a writing desk sat. Now they were around the tea table in the center off the room, with the host sitting on a cushion.

"It's not that kind of tea. That was Proper Tea."

"Hardly seems proper to me," Chichi fumed.

"No, get it, Proper Tea, property. It's a pun if you're using the right language. Haha, because it makes women my servants," Princess Snake laughed nobly, back of her hand to her mouth.

"…"

"Tough crowd. But I'm not complaining," Princess Snake said, looking Chichi over. The physical changes had not come all undone, by any means. Oh, her face was back to normal and her posture and such was all human again. But the tail still trailed behind her, fur was evident where her clothes allowed, and if those specially designed shoes were fitting so well, her feet were as useful as ever still.

"So, I'm sure you want answers?" Princess Snake asked. Chichi nodded not taking her narrowed eyes off the Princess.

"First of all, why do all this?"

"Well, luring pretty women to serve me or fine men to love me is a hobby. Since I left my husband, I've taken to the wild lifestyle to fill the void. But if you mean you in particular, I admit it was personal. Men have slipped my grasp before, but never without being led astray for a time. And usually with some outside help. But your Son Goku, I couldn't tempt him even for a minute! As a woman, surely you understand my pride could not just forgive him for such a rejection?"

"Don't put your deviancy on me," Chichi snapped.

"Hmph, you're trying to be nasty, but I am liking it. Anyway, I saw you and your son through my magic mirror, and recognized you on my doorstep as his wife. If I couldn't have him neither could you, and I would leave him bereft and humiliated with your utter devotion to me," Princess Snake explained calmly.

"So you're just a horrible person, I get it. But why turn me into a monkey?!" Chichi demanded.

Princess Snake shrugged, and Chichi almost tripped over in outrage.

"That part wasn't exactly me. Proper Tea is excellent training and limited transformation, providing the subject accepts it willingly, and best of all in ignorance of the changes they go through. Typically I train my girls to be proper ladies of service in my Palace, and they take after me as the most ideal woman here."

Chichi rolled her eyes.

"So, training you as a warrior like the old days of my wild years was a change from the start. As for why the monkey? I can only guess that for some reason that says power to your innermost self, and that's what you were hoping to grow like," the Princess shrugged.

Chichi looked down with a blush. She thought of Goku, and how she had for years gone over and over in her head about the monkey boy that stole her heart with a pat to her crotch.

"Not that I minded, my range is very broad and it made for a change of pace, as much as I like the classic flavor."

"So, how long until the rest wears off?" Chichi said, gesturing to herself.

"Well, you already broke the spell, it's all or nothing with that stuff. So that's probably all the reversion you get. No one's ever gone that far and broken out. I can't really regret that you did. You're much more interesting with your own mind and will."

"Well! If there's nothing you can offer, I have a stupid road to run down!"

"Wait, wait, there is something I can do. You won't change back on your own, but I can use other magic to get you there."

"Really, and why would I trust you casting any spell on me?"

"Hey, I treated you well under the geass, didn't I? Besides, I'd like to make this up to you, so that when you die again you'll be willing to consider a place up here."

"…What?"

"Wedding vows are very clear, till death do you part. I get you're aiming to go renew those ties right now. Bu in forty or fifty years or so, you'll probably be ready to try something else, and I will be as beautiful as ever and ready to zap you back to your prime. No brainwashing, of course; as I said, that drive of yours is more appealing than- Wait, wait!"

Chchi stopped at the door to glare.

"Okay, fine, right to the chase. I'm not comfortable cutting the tail off, and who knows what about the feet. But my Eternal Shave technique not only will solve your fur problem but give you such a smooth, satisfying shave that it will be like a gift from a goddess. You know, because it is? I am a literal goddess, you know?

"…"

"Okay, okay. Now for this to work, I'll need you to get bare and lift your arms. No need to blush — at this point I've seen more of your body than you, I think."

"Why do I keep ending up trained by perverts?" Chichi growled.

Princess Snake shrugged off her dress, revealing a red tank top and bicycle shorts somehow below, and started to stretch.

"You are not allowed to enjoy this," Chichi ordered as she stripped.

"Sure, sure. But do think on my offer. Two women can have no greater revenge on their man than getting married to each other."

"Don't project your unhappy home life and opportunism onto others. Even if I wanted to get back at Goku for something, I wouldn't be so petty as to jump through hoops for it. Well, get on with it," Chichi demanded, finished, and raising her arms.

"Come now, this is serious business," the Princess said, assuming a wide-footed stance. Breathing deep, she gathered ki, a greenish aura coiling around her. Eyes flashing red, the aura surged to her hands, forming into spikes on her knuckles.

"Secret Goddess Technique of Beauty! Eternal Shave, LEVEL 10!" she shouted, before springing at Chichi in a blur.

"URURAURAURAURURA!" she shouted, fists flying. To Chichi, it just felt like an usually warm wind was ripping around her.

Then it was over, and it seemed like the lights had dimmed, only to flare back up as the Princess slumped, wiping sweat from her brow.

"Man, guess I should train more, after all. That took a bit out of me," Princess Snake said. Chichi for her part was distracted. Distracted by her pristine skin, along her arms, legs, and stomach. It practically sparkled, over her well-toned and trained body.

"And so smooth! You may be a lying, treacherous snake that I hate, but you know your stuff," Chichi complimented.

Then from somewhere, somehow, Chichi felt a cool breeze over her head. Specifically, her scalp.

*Pat. Pat Pat. Patpatpatpat*

"…You shaved my head?!"

"Yeah, better than a razor, right?" Princess Snake said, giving double pointy gestures and a triumphant wink. Chichi naturally sent her flying into a bookshelf with a punch.

"Why?!" Chichi roared.

"What do you mean, why? It was clear you were shaving it when you got here. I thought you wanted your old look back?!" the confused woman said, nursing a swelling cheek.

"Not by choice. I had to shave my head because I was living with an old pervert!" Chichi yelled.

"…part of me thinks I don't want to know. But the other part wants all the juicy details!"

Frowning Chichi swing her tail into sight and glared at the fact it was still covered in black fur. Princess snake glanced at it and gave a huff.

"Well naturally I didn't shave that. A hairless monkey tail would look weird."

"Shut up! Just fix this," Chichi growled, pointing at her head with both hands.

"Fix it? It's 'eternal' shave, not 'until you decide differently' shave."

"Well, don't you have some magical hair spell technique thing?!"

"Yeeesss, but the level of Beauty Magic only goes up to ten, there is no eleven on the dial. Even if I used Magic Hair Growth level ten on you, since Eternal Shave ten got there first, it would repulse it. But don't hit me, I mean, don't despair! There could yet be a way to restore your hair. It will be an epic journey wrought with peril, long distances traveled, and quite possibly personal development and revelations-"

"Oh forget it, I'll just buy a wig or something! I really need to get to King Kai's so I can protect Gohan. Goodbye!" Chichi said, stomping out of the room. Princess Snake winced as she slammed the door shut and audibly stomped down the hallway. Shrugging, she poured herself another cup of tea.

"Meh, it's probably for the best. After all this time, Dragon Balls probably aren't a thing anymore, anyway. But I'll move the palace to the end of Snake Way for now to make things a bit easier on her," Princess Snake said, snapping her fingers. Finishing her tea, she passed by the gate, opening it to see Chichi nowhere in sight and the end of Snake Way nearby, with King Kai's planet floating in the air.

"That was fun. See you later, Chichi," she said, waving her hand before closing the gate, the palace fading from sight.

_Back on the Ship:_

The boys were quiet, too quiet. Bulma tapped her foot, watching Gohan furiously read a book on agriculture, of all things, while Boxer silently did pushups. They were aggressively ignoring each other. It could not stand.

"Krillin, it's time to take action."

"How about you let one of them have some privacy instead of hoarding that privacy booth you built?"

"Krillin, don't be a jerk. I'm a parent, I know what I'm doing."

"Didn't you always have your parents, a staff, and Piccolo before to help?"

"…Shut up. And watch me be awesome."

Five Minutes Later:

"Get along now or ELSE!" Bulma yelled, holding the boys up by their collars and shaking them as she bared her teeth. Boxer bared them back at her while Gohan looked torn between confusion and tears.

"NO!" Boxer shouted back in her face.

"It's official, space madness has won the day. Looks like I have to be the one to save us all. Time to shine and show why you are on this trip, Krillin," Krillin said, punching his palm. Then he spotted a green light blinking on the control panel.

"Hey Bulma, is that a good or bad blinking light?" Krillin asked. Bulma glanced over and dropped the boys, her jaw dropping with them.

"…Namek, we've reached Namek," Bulma smiled and rushed over to the panel, "Yes, we made it. Ha, so much for the final frontier. We kicked space's butt without an issue."

"Yeah," Boxer and Gohan said, high-fiving.

"And now they're okay? No, this can't be healthy," Krillin grumbled, looking at the trio of weirdos.

Well, it would have to wait, he supposed. With their luck, they'd have quite the Dragon Ball hunt in front of them.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_If you can't help but read Princess Snake's lines in the TFS voice, that's okay._

_This Chichi heavy chapter I was happy to write as the action will shift to the world of the living for Namek. While Chichi has arrived late to King Kai's don't worry her training on Snake Way was not for nothing. _

_Her transformation and brainwashing was inspired by tales of the fey. Also being tricked by playing to her desire to outshine the Z warriors along with being able to rescue herself I saw as a way to grow her character._

_Before you ask she is not a Saiyan, and she never will be in this story. At this point she's just a human with magical alterations. On the plus side the Dragon Ball Earth is such a strange place Chichi probably wouldn't stand out too much with those._

_Okay to get real for a moment in the midst of the ongoing upheaval and the pandemic I urge you to take care of yourselves and one another._

_now then, no idea how long the next chapter will take and I continue to also work on other stories. I hope this strange tale continues to entertain you._

_Long days and pleasant nights to you all._


End file.
